


It's a Revolution, I Suppose

by FyreWriter



Series: Radioactive [3]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Action, Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Angst, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama & Romance, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Not Canon Compliant, Smut, cursing, hancock pov, wholesome smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:29:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 34
Words: 56,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21722260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FyreWriter/pseuds/FyreWriter
Summary: Part 3 of the "Radioactive" series, picking up right after "Breathing in the Chemicals."Erica has just returned from the Institute with devastating news. The real work is about to begin.Updates about once per week.
Relationships: John Hancock/Female Sole Survivor
Series: Radioactive [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1312232
Comments: 53
Kudos: 141





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Part 3.

He was sitting on the grass next to the river again. Over the past few days, he kept coming back here. His anxiety was ramping up practically by the hour, and by this point he was so keyed up that he could barely light a cigarette thanks to his shaking hands. 

They hadn’t heard a peep from her since she’d disappeared in front of their eyes four days ago. Just last night he’d nearly punched Sturges, convinced that the engineer hadn’t built a working device at all and had only managed to disintegrate her. It had taken Preston, Jun Long, and some random caravaner to pull him back and hold onto him long enough for him to finally calm down, turn around, and storm back to Erica’s house. While he’d apologized this morning, Sturges remained frosty, so it was probably better that he just lie low today. 

He heard the approaching footsteps before he saw the shadow. 

“What do you want, Preston?” he growled. 

“I’ve been reviewing the data with Sturges,” Preston replied. “He got the console up and running again. The signal was definitely hijacked, and she definitely made it in.” 

“Sounds like maybe he was a little worried that he might’ve disintegrated her, too, then,” Hancock replied, his voice cold. 

“We’re all worried you know,” Preston said, sitting down next to him. Hancock turned to him, incredulous. Preston sighed. “I know it’s not the same. I do. Just… we’re all on edge right now.” 

“She should have been back by now,” Hancock muttered. 

“You don’t know that,” Preston said. “She was trying to get a lot done, and she only has the one shot. For all we know, she could have come out damn near anywhere and has to travel back here cross-country. For that matter, she could have gone straight back to Goodneighbor with the serum and Nick’s data.” 

“You know as well as I do that she’d have had them radio so we wouldn’t worry. You know that, Preston!” His voice was starting to rise again. “Something’s wrong. Either she didn’t make it in the first place or she’s trapped inside and can’t get out! We need to go after her—can’t Sturges just rebuild the damn thing and send us?”

“The signal we hijacked won’t work anymore. We’d need a fresh signal… so we’d have to find another courser.” 

“And she has the goddamn Pipboy for tracking it,” Hancock groaned.

Preston nodded. “And all of us came pretty close to not making it out of that mess alive.” 

Hancock flopped back in the grass. “Fuck!” His fist pounded the ground in frustration.

“I don’t know what we can do other than continue to wait.” Preston sighed. 

Hancock lay in the grass for a while longer, his arm over his eyes. “I can’t just sit and do nothing, Preston,” he finally said. “I’ll give it a few more days and then I’ll… I don’t know. Try to buy a Pipboy off someone. Maybe that functioning Vault over near Diamond City would sell me one. We can grab MacCready and Fahrenheit and…” 

“MacCready’s hurt,” Preston interrupted. Hancock pounded the ground again. 

“Well, goddammit, I’ll take _someone_ —we’ll raise a fucking army!” His eyes burned and his voice broke. “I can’t just leave her there, Preston. You know that.” 

Preston’s hand clapped on his shoulder. “I do know that. I do. I know how worried I am, and I can’t imagine being in your shoes right now.”

“Why hasn’t she tried to reach us?” Hancock’s voice was rougher than usual. 

“They’re probably too far underground and she can’t get a signal on the Pipboy. That’s Sturges’s theory, anyway.” 

“Weren’t those damn things made to be used underground?” 

“Yeah, but they weren’t really designed to get a message above ground,” Preston replied. “Plus, we just don’t know how deep the Institute is. Could be a lot deeper than any Vault.”

“But the courser signals….” 

Preston sighed again. “Mayor, I don’t have the answers. I wish I did. All I have is speculation from someone with more knowledge about electronics than I have.”

Hancock glared at the river. He knew Preston didn’t have the answers, and getting mad at the man wasn’t going to help. 

“I’m gonna get a drink,” he finally replied. “You in?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Preston said. The two men got to their feet and headed toward the bar in the open air market. 

  
  
  
  


The sun had long since set, and Hancock was half drunk. Sturges had eventually quit his daily tinkering and joined them. The three of them barely spoke, each lost in their own worries. Hancock regretted lashing out at Sturges. The man was obviously doing what he could to get answers. It wasn’t his fault there were none to be had. 

“Guess I’ll call it a night,” Hancock finally announced. The stars were cold and sharp in the sky above them, and a crescent moon slowly rose against the horizon. He stood, a touch unsteady, sketched a little salute to Preston and Sturges, and started walking toward the pre-war house, anticipating yet another long night of staring at the ceiling and worrying about her. 

He was almost to the door when the night was split by a loud cracking sound and an enormous blue flash. He spun around, his heart in his throat. _Could it… could it really, finally be her?_ He saw Preston and Sturges jump up from the bench they were sharing at the bar and run toward the riverbank, and before he knew it, was was racing in that direction too. 

When he got closer, he could see the dark silhouette, balled up in the grass—he recognized her hair. In the next moment, however, he realized… she was alone. _Where was her son?_ Had they been wrong all along about where he was? Or… had something worse happened? 

Despite the other men’s considerable lead, he got to her first and fell to his knees beside her, his hat tumbling from his head at the fast drop. 

“Sunshine… oh thank God, you’re back—you’re okay!” He wrapped his arms around her and then realized how hard she was shaking. His heart sank. Sudden footsteps told him that Preston and Sturges had arrived. He looked up at them, and in the dim moonlight could read the question written across their faces. He slowly shook his head. Sturges’s head dropped nearly to his chest, and Preston scrubbed a hand across his open mouth. 

“Sunshine,” he whispered to her as he slowly rubbed her shaking back. “Sunshine, I’m here. Whatever it is, I’m here.” 

At this, she suddenly uncurled and raised her face to the sky, seemingly ignoring him, and the most anguished sound he’d ever heard tore from her throat. It sounded like her vocal chords were ripping themselves apart to produce this cry of pure agony, and his own heart wanted to tear at the sound. He could feel his ruined skin trying to lump into goosebumps and a cold shudder worked its way down his spine. 

He wrapped his arms tightly around her and held her while she shrieked her horror and misery to the sky. It was all he could do.


	2. Chapter 2

They remained in the road for some time as she cried, huge rasping, painful sobs. He waited to speak until it seemed like she was losing some steam. 

“Let’s go back to the house, Sunshine,” he said. He wasn’t going to press her to talk until she was ready. The fact that she didn’t have a child with her spoke volumes, and it was hard for him to even imagine the pain she must be in right now. He placed his hands gently under her arms, intending to help her up, when suddenly she leapt to her feet, her eyes filled with rage and her revolver in her hands. He took an uncertain step back, but then she turned and started firing at the crows lining the wires. 

“Kill all the crows,” she said, her voice hoarse from screaming, almost sounding like a ghoul herself. “Tom was right. They’re cameras. There’s… a whole room filled with monitors. They’re watching everything.”

Hancock and Preston didn’t have weapons on them, but Sturges drew his pistol and immediately got to work. It wasn’t long before the wires criss-crossing between the houses in the settlement were completely denuded and the street was filled with the corpses of crows. She walked up to one and kicked it with a furious shriek, punting it as though it were a football. After this, however, the fire seemed to go out of her—her shoulders slumped and her head dropped into her hands. Hancock was there in a moment to support her. 

“Okay, come on, let’s go.” His eyes met Preston’s, and the Minuteman nodded. They would check back in the morning. Preston and Sturges ambled to the house across the street as Hancock gently guided Erica toward her former home. A few settlers had emerged at the sound of the screaming and then the gunshots, more than a few of them gripping weapons and ready to defend their homes, but it was quickly apparent that the situation was under control and they returned to their homes… except for one. 

“Oh, kid,” Mama Murphy’s dreamy voice intoned. “You see? It’s just as I said… he’s alive… and his spirit is everywhere. I saw it.”

Hancock couldn’t make heads or tails of this statement… but Erica clearly did. She turned to Mama Murphy, her face twisting in pain. 

“You need to back away right now, old lady,” she hissed. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay far far away from me.”

Mama Murphy’s expression never changed, but she inclined her head in a sort of nod and disappeared down the street. Hancock put an arm around Erica’s shoulders and resumed guiding her toward the house. Once inside, Erica headed straight for the child’s bedroom. She stood for a moment in the doorway, fists clenched, then with a guttural growl, charged inside. She kicked and thrashed at the crib, pulling it apart with her bare hands, yanking the mobile down, throwing it across the room with a scream. Her next target was that pristine teddy bear she’d found in the Cambridge police station. A knife was produced from somewhere, and she slashed it to ribbons. Fluff flew around the room like snow. 

She tossed the knife to the side and collapsed in the middle of the room, sobbing. Hancock went to her and once again put his arms around her, pulling her to him. 

“Sunshine…” he softly rasped. “I love you. I’m here.” He didn’t know what else to say, so he just repeated it again. “I love you.” 

“Oh my God, John,” she wailed. “This is too much—I can’t deal with this. It’s too much for me. I want out.” 

This statement sent a shudder down his spine. 

“What can I do, Sunshine? How can I help?” 

“You can’t. No one can.” She swallowed and looked up at him. He was startled to see the deep dark circles beneath her haunted eyes. She looked like she had aged at least ten years in the past few days.

He stroked her hair with a soft touch. “Tell me. What happened in there? What did they do?”

She choked out a humorless laugh. “We thought we were looking for a ten-year-old, remember?” He nodded. “Well, joke’s on us. My son… he wasn’t stolen ten years ago. He was stolen _sixty_ years ago.”

His blood ran cold. “Sixty…? Jesus. So you got there to discover that… he’s an old man?”

She shook her head. “That’s not even the worst part.”

His mouth was dry. “What… what’s the worst part?”

She looked straight at him, her mouth pulled into a grimace, her eyes horrified. “John… he leads them. He’s in charge down there. They… they call him Father.”

He couldn’t even answer. The world seemed to tilt on its axis, like with a particularly strong hit of PsychoJet. Of all the possible things he could have expected her to tell him, this certainly wasn’t even on his radar. How could it have been? All he could do was pull her tightly to him and stroke her hair. 

But there was more, and she continued to speak. “ _He’s_ the one who released me. _He’s_ the one who sent Kellogg. It was all an ‘experiment,’ a game. He wanted to see what would happen, what I would do. He… didn’t expect me to survive.” 

He placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head. She smelled like bitter soap, and he wondered about this bizarre place beneath the surface of the Commonwealth he knew. His hands rubbed her back gently, trying to let her know that this changed nothing between them. He loved her, and that was that. None of this was her fault. They’d deal with it… somehow. 

“And John…” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I have to go back. I never had a chance to look for Nick’s files or that serum for Virgil. They were too busy showing me off… mother of the director. A proud moment for them.” Her eyes closed for a moment. “They gave me a room but a Courser stood guard outside the whole time. They showed off everything they were doing. At first I thought they were stupid, that they were giving away all their secrets, but I think what they were actually trying to do was intimidate me. They have their fingers in so many pies. They’re making gorillas down there, John! Gorillas! The synths… it’s just what Desdemona said. They’re slaves. They’ve created themselves an entire population of people, gave them free will, and then force them to do their bidding. Some of the things they have the synths do… It’s sick.” She shook her head and looked nauseated. “They… want me to join them. To help them.”

Hancock’s head reeled with all this information. “How will you get back in? The relay is busted. Sturges says we can’t build another one without another Courser chip.” 

She held up her arm. “They put a chip in my Pipboy. I can come and go as I please now.” 

“Jesus.” He didn’t know what else to say. “Let’s try to get some sleep tonight. We’ll see how things look in the morning and try to figure it out from there.” He brushed a curl out of her eyes, and kissed her forehead. 

She nodded, clearly exhausted. He put an arm around her and helped her to her feet, and she allowed herself to be led across the hallway. He shut the door to the other bedroom, closing away the destruction. They’d deal with it later. He’d clean out the room himself if he had to. 

Once in the other room, he carefully undressed her and helped her into the bed, then pulled her close to him and just held her while she cried herself to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for talk of self-harm. If needed, you can skip this chapter and catch up next week.

When he woke the morning, Erica wasn’t beside him. Almost immediately alert, he swung his legs to the side of the bed and listened for a moment for any signs of life in the house. He could hear the usual bustle of activity outside, but nothing that indicated she was nearby. There was no sign of the dog either. Concerned, he yanked his pants, coat, and boots on and left the room. 

“Erica?” he called out as he walked through the house. He opened the door to the other bedroom and peeked in, worried that she’d continued her destructive rampage of the night before, but no. She wasn’t there. She wasn’t in the bathroom or the main room either. 

Closing the door behind him, he jogged across the street. Nobody answered his knock, further increasing his worry. He headed around to the back and spotted Preston and Sturges in the backyard. Sturges was bent over, working in the garden, and Preston was seated in a rusting lawn chair, studying a stack of papers with a frown. 

He didn’t bother with a greeting and cut straight to the chase. “Hey, either of you guys seen Erica this morning?”

They both looked up, startled. Preston spoke first. “She’s not with you?”

 _Obviously not._ Hancock rolled his eyes. “I woke up and she wasn’t there.” 

Sturges stood up, brushing his hands off on his overalls. “Well, that ain’t good. Let’s split up and go take a look. She can’t have gone far, not in the shape she’s in.” 

Hancock nodded, and the three men quickly dispersed. He headed first down to the river. It was his favorite place in the settlement and away from the busier areas, so he thought she might have gone down to get some quiet and sort out her worries. He walked quickly up and down the bank, one eye on the hill that led down to the river, but there was no sign of her. 

As he walked past the playground full of kids happily playing in the sunshine, he gritted his teeth. She’d been so hopeful. They both had been. Even as anxious as he’d been about what he’d thought was impending stepfatherhood, the idea of helping Erica raise her son had actually gotten him excited. They were going to be a family. Now, he couldn’t believe what a colossal disaster this had all turned out to be. 

He headed back up to the trading area in the cul-de-sac. After a quick scan of the various shops, he finally spotted her, seated on a stool at the bar, the dog at her feet looking up at her anxiously. Preston was standing near her, obviously saying something from the way he was gesticulating with his hands. She shoved him, hard enough to cause him to stumble backward. 

“Fuck,” Hancock muttered to himself. What the hell time was it anyway? Maybe eight or nine? How long had she been there? 

He hurried up to the stand and placed his hand gently on her shoulder. “Hey, Sunshine,” he murmured. The dog nudged his hand with its wet nose and whined.

“Leave me alone,” she mumbled. He could smell whiskey coming off of her in waves, and he glared at the man who was tending bar.

“How long has she been here?” he growled. 

“I dunno,” the bartender replied. “A couple hours?”

“And you thought it was a good idea to serve her this much this early in the morning?”

“Hey, buddy,” the bartender replied with a scowl, “I didn’t hear you complaining when I served _you_ all hours of the night and day.” 

_Ouch._ He couldn’t deny that the fucker had a point… but it didn’t change the fact that Erica was completely plowed and obviously still in a lot of pain. He turned to Preston. “What did you say to her?”

“I was just trying to tell her that it might be a good idea to take a break,” the Minuteman replied.

“And I told _you_ ,” Erica snarled, “to leave me the fuck alone and mind your own goddamn business.”

Hancock exchanged a glance with Preston. He hated to do this, but… “Come on, Sunshine. Let’s go back to the house. This ain’t helping.” 

She swung out an arm toward him, and he ducked. He wasn’t sure if she was trying to hit him or just shove him away as she had Preston, but it didn’t matter. He picked her up and swung her over his shoulder, even as she screeched in protest. 

“Put me down, goddammit!” Her hands thumped against his back. “What the fuck is wrong with you! I said to leave me alone!”

“I’m sorry, Sunshine. I can’t let you do this. I love you too much.” He did his best to keep his voice calm, but it was difficult. 

“Fuck you! I didn’t ask for this! Just let me forget about it for a while, please!” Her voice broke on the last word, and his heart just about shattered in empathy for her. If anyone knew what it was like to desperately want to dull the pain, it was him. But it was also the exact reason why he couldn’t let her do it. Not like this. 

Preston walked along beside them without saying a word, and the dog trotted along behind. As they approached the house, Hancock spotted Sturges coming from the other direction. Preston ran up to him, and the two men spoke briefly before Sturges nodded and headed toward his house. Hancock turned to Erica’s house, and Preston followed them in. Erica sobbed over his shoulder but had at least stopped fighting him.

Once inside, Hancock gently laid her down on the couch. She tried to push back against him, howling, but he carefully held her arms so she couldn’t hurt either herself or him.

“Preston, can you grab us some water?” he said in that same calm voice he’d been using. Soon, a can of purified water was placed on the table. “Alright, Sunshine. Drink up.” Almost the moment he put the open can of water in her hand, though, she flung it against the wall. It fell to the floor, the liquid gurgling out across the old, cracked tile. “Goddammit,” he muttered. Preston moved quickly to clean up the mess. 

Moments later, Sturges appeared in the doorway. “Knock knock,” he announced. “Addictol delivery. Thanks to Mama Murphy, we always keep a pretty good stock on hand.” 

Hancock breathed a sigh of relief. He needed to sober her up, now. Upon hearing Sturges, however, Erica renewed her efforts to fight back. 

“Leave me alone!” she howled once more. 

“Nope, not gonna do it,” Hancock said. “Love you too much to let you do this to yourself, Sunshine.” He and Preston each held an arm as she bucked on the couch, allowing Sturges to catch hold of her head and hold the inhaler to her lips. Although she tried to pull her head back, he held tight and quickly activated the inhaler. She took a deep breath to cry out again, but instead started coughing as the anti-addiction medication hit her lungs. It occurred to Hancock that as drunk as she was, they probably could have just told her it was Jet, but it was too late now.

Hancock and Preston loosened their grip on her, and she leaned forward sobbing as the medication sobered up almost immediately. Hancock sat next to her and rubbed her back, and Dogmeat jumped up on the couch on her other side. “I’m sorry, Sunshine,” he murmured. 

“Why can’t you just let me be?” she sobbed. “Haven’t I done enough? Don’t I deserve to just forget about it for a while?”

“You do, Sunshine, but not like this,” Hancock said. 

“Then how? And who the fuck are you to judge me? You with your… stash.” She smacked her forehead. “I’m a fucking idiot. That’s what I should have done, gone straight for the stash. With any luck, I’d never have to deal with any of this shit again.” 

Hancock’s blood ran cold at that statement. He met Preston’s eyes, and noted that the Minuteman looked just as worried as he felt. He twitched his head a bit at the traveling packs that were stashed in the corner, hoping that the other man would take the hint. Preston nodded and stood up. Picking up the pack, he and Sturges left the house together, leaving Hancock and Erica alone.

Erica sobbed on the couch, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Preston and Sturges had left. Hancock continued to rub her back—he didn’t know what else to do. The dog left the couch and curled up at her feet. Finally, her sobs tapered off, and she drifted into an uneasy sleep. He stayed put, wanting to be there for her when she woke up and hoping she would be ready to make some hard decisions.


	4. Chapter 4

The chems were out of the house (except for the small personal stash he kept in his coat pocket, of course), and the barkeep was under strict instructions not to serve Erica unless Hancock, Preston, or Sturges were accompanying her. He hated to lay down the law in such a way; it made him feel a bit like a tyrant—or a complete fucking hypocrit, at the very least. But her safety was the top priority right now as they just tried to keep her going while she struggled with the heavy burden of her new knowledge. 

A few days passed with her alternating between storms of rage and misery, and he was there the whole time to help her ride it out. The settlement was on alert for crows (although they hadn’t been told precisely why), and a few parties were sent out to spread the word to other settlements. Preston didn’t trust sending the message over the radio waves for the time being; without actually saying the words, everyone acknowledged that Erica would, at some point, have to return to the Institute, and they didn’t want to give themselves away. 

Finally one morning, Hancock emerged from their room to find her sitting on the couch in clean clothes, her damp hair signaling a recent shower. The strained lines around her mouth and the dark shadows under her eyes revealed that she was still hurting, but she had at least taken these minimal steps toward returning to her old self, and he was relieved to see it. 

“Hey, Sunshine,” he said, sitting next to her and putting an arm around her shoulders. “How you feeling this morning?”

She leaned into him, her head against his arm. “I… don’t know, honestly,” she replied. Her voice was still a bit hoarse from all the yelling and crying she’d done over the past several days, but the hysteria that had tinged most of her words recently was gone—another positive sign. “I woke up and just… felt gross. So I cleaned up a bit and found some breakfast.” She heaved a deep sigh. When she turned to him, her eyes were still filled with pain. “I’m trying to figure out where we go from here.” 

He took her hand and entwined their fingers together. The ring he’d given her glinted and caught his eye, a powerful reminder that no matter what happened, they were in this together. “I wish more than anything that I could go back with you,” he said. 

She sighed. “I do too. I know I have to go back, it’s just… it all hurts so bad. I’m going to have to somehow pretend that all of this is okay, and I don’t know if I can do that.” 

He nodded. “Maybe we should go talk to the Railroad, tell them what you found. If nothing else, they need confirmation about the crows. And they might have some recommendations for where to go from here so that we can minimize the amount of time you have to be down below.” 

“God, Desdemona is going to be insufferable,” Erica commented with a snort. “But that’s not a terrible idea. As much as I just want to walk away from this whole mess, Des is right. We’ve got to get those synths out of there. It’s… it’s not right what they’re doing. It makes me sick.” 

“That’s because you have a good heart, Sunshine,” he said, squeezing her hand. “It’s one of your best qualities.” 

A sad little smile curled on her lips, and he was glad to see it. “I’m glad you think so. As far as I can tell, it’s mostly good for causing me pain.” 

“Hey.” He reached out and gently turned her head to face him. “We’re going to get through this together, okay? Even though you have to go in there, you’ve got that doo-hickey in your Pipboy now, so you just come right back any time it gets to be too much and you need a break. I know everyone else is in a big fucking hurry for you to get the info they want, but it’s not going to do anyone any good if you lose your mind.”

She nodded. “Thank you,” she said. “For being here and not giving up on me.” 

“Ain’t gonna happen, Sunshine. I already said I was in it for the long haul, no matter what.” He pecked a light kiss on the tip of her nose.

  
  
  
  


After a conversation with Preston and Sturges, it was decided that Hancock and Preston would head back to Goodneighbor. Erica would head back to the Institute, try to ingratiate herself with some of the scientists there to gather more information (and hopefully find those files and the serum), then use the relay in her Pipboy to send herself to Goodneighbor to meet up with them in a couple days. The more central location (and proximity to the Church headquarters of the Railroad) made sense as they determined their next move. Sturges would remain behind to man the radio and keep an eye on Sanctuary. Nobody was altogether happy with this decision, but it was the one that made the most sense. 

During their meeting, Erica reached into a pocket and pulled out the holotape Sturges had given her before departing. “I almost forgot that I had this. The room I teleported into had a computer in it, so I was able to get this info almost immediately. I… I hope there’s something useful on it.” 

Sturges gave her a hug and took the tape, turning it over in his fingers. “Thanks, darlin’. I didn’t want to ask you about it since you’d been through so much. I’m impressed that you were able to get this.” 

Her lips curled upward into a small smile. “Well, don’t thank me yet. But good luck.” She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving with Hancock.

Erica departed from the house to avoid freaking out the settlers any more than necessary. Hancock’s heart raced at the sight of her vanishing in a flash of light and hoped to hell they were making the right decision. He collected the packs and then headed across the street to meet up with Preston. By late afternoon, the two of them were on the road as well. 

  
  
  
  


Despite a run-in with some raiders along the river, he and Preston made good time and arrived at Goodneighbor shortly after dark the next day. His heart soared at the sight of MacCready and Haylen greeting them at the gates. The sniper was moving slowly, still recovering from the ambush, but was clearly on the mend, and Hancock pulled the younger man in for a hug before shaking Haylen’s hand. 

“Where’s Erica?” Haylen asked with concern in her eyes. 

“She’s okay, and she’ll be here soon,” Hancock replied. “In the meantime, we need to reconvene and go over the new information we have. Preston and I have been traveling since yesterday, so we’ll meet in the morning after we get some rest. I need someone to head over to Railroad headquarters, though, and have them send a representative so they can be brought up to speed, too.” 

Fahrenheit stepped forward out of the shadows. “I’ll do it,” she said. Hancock nodded, and she headed out the town’s main gate without a second glance. They’d have to have a difficult conversation soon (she had a new stepmother after all, and he wasn’t sure how she’d deal with that particular bit of information—he might have to have Magnolia frisk her first for knives just to be on the safe side), but it could wait until tomorrow, preferably after the meeting. 

He headed for the State House and his bed. He’d need a good night’s sleep to be ready for whatever came next. 


	5. Chapter 5

He looked around at the expressions of shock circling the table in the makeshift war room they’d resurrected in the VIP room of the Third Rail. He’d caught the others up, and once he was done speaking, silence descended over the room as everyone tried to cope with what they’d just learned. He’d had a few days now to process it and he was still reeling, so he completely understood. 

“That poor girl,” Daisy murmured. “Her heart must be completely broken.” 

He nodded. “She’s… taking it pretty rough.”

“I don’t think there’s a good way to take it,” Deacon said. He still wore his sunglasses, but Hancock could swear this was the first time he’d heard any kind of compassion in the man’s voice. “I hate to ask, but does this change anything? I mean, should I be here?”

Hancock shook his head. “It changes nothing. She’s furious. That fucker has been treating her like an experimental plaything the entire time she’s been unfrozen. Kellogg, the courser, all of it… it was all at his command. I guess the good news is that we have an in now, and as long as she can hold it together while she’s there, she can come and go as she pleases.”

“Des is going to love that,” Deacon said. “Access. It’s what we’ve dreamed of for years.” 

“Yeah, but at what cost?” Preston asked. “You haven’t seen her yet. She’s really hurting.” 

Deacon looked sharply at the Minuteman. “It’s a war, cowboy. People are going to get hurt. She won’t be the only one hurting by the time this is over.”

“So what’s the plan, boss?” MacCready cut in. “Sounds like she’s the only one who can get in or out.” Haylen, sitting next to him and holding his hand, nodded. 

“We don’t really have a plan as of yet. That’s kind of why we’re all here. She should be arriving some time today, and I wanted to bring you all up to speed before then so she doesn’t have to go through the retelling again.” He sighed. “For now, we may just have to gather intel.”

Fahrenheit finally spoke up, looking at him through narrowed eyes. “Let’s back this shit up for a minute. Did I hear you say you _married_ her?”

He sighed. “Really, Fahr? _That’s_ your takeaway here?”

She smacked her hand on the table, making everyone seated around it jump. “I knew she was going to be trouble from the moment she turned up, and look at this mess now! Her kid runs the fucking _Institute_! And if you’re married to her, that basically makes him your stepson!”

MacCready snickered. “And that makes _you_ his stepsister.” 

Fahr’s face went pale, her freckles standing out in harsh contrast. “Fucking hell!” she exploded. “I can’t be a part of this insanity anymore!” She jumped up and ran out of the room. Hancock groaned and ran a hand over his face, massaging his temples. MacCready at least had the sense to look chagrined. 

“Sorry about that, boss. Want me to go after her?”

Hancock shook his head. “No, I’ll deal with her later. I figured she wouldn’t be thrilled, but I thought she’d at least… Never mind.” 

Just then, the door to the hastily erected partition opened and Erica stepped in, followed by Ham, who remained by the entryway, standing guard. Hancock jumped to his feet and enfolded Erica in his arms. She looked nearly as haggard as she had when she’d left Sanctuary, although she’d clearly had a shower recently. 

“Fahrenheit wasn’t exactly thrilled to see me coming down the stairs,” she murmured. 

“She didn’t stab you or anything, did she?” he asked, only half kidding. 

“No, but she hip-checked me and just about sent me flying. Luckily Ham was there. What did you say to her?”

He hesitated. “She, uh… knows about her new relationship to you. She ain’t particularly thrilled.”

Erica sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I can’t deal with that right now, John.” 

“Ain’t your problem to deal with, Sunshine. I’ll figure something out.” He kissed the top of her head and pulled out a chair for her. “I’ve brought everyone up to speed. What’s the latest on your end?”

She looked around at the people gathered around the table, clearly nervous about what their response would be to this new mess. Surprise registered on her face when she saw no judgment or anger, just compassion and concern. Daisy reached across the table and patted her hand. “I’m so sorry, sweetie,” the ghoul said, her eyes gentle. “I can’t even imagine what this has been like for you.” 

Erica’s eyes teared up. “Thank you, Daisy. It’s… it’s been awful.” She swallowed. “Deacon, I’m glad you’re here. I’ve been sent up to bring in a synth. I’m… not entirely sure how to proceed.” 

Deacon nodded thoughtfully. “I’m not surprised. I assume he’s trying to test your loyalty. Does he know about your involvement with us?” 

“I’m not sure. He definitely knows about the Railroad and what you guys have been up to, but I don’t think he knows your location. Did John tell you about the crows?”

“Yup. Can’t say I’m surprised. Except for the nanobots, Tinker Tom usually knows what the hell he’s talking about. Makes me a bit nervous that he might actually be onto something with the nanobots now.” 

“Any luck with the files?” MacCready asked. 

“Or the serum?” Haylen said. 

“Not yet,” she said. “I’m sorry… I’ve been trying. I’m pretty sure the files are going to be in either Robotics or Advanced Systems. Robotics is where they build the synths, but Advanced Systems is where they test out new designs. They have a… synth version of Shaun in there.” She turned to Hancock. “That’s… the child we saw in Kellogg’s memories.”

“Holy shit,” Hancock muttered. He hadn’t heard about that part yet. “That’s sick.” 

She nodded. “Dr. Binet—he’s in charge of Robotics—I think I can probably ingratiate myself with him pretty easily.” She turned to Hancock. “I don’t like him. He knows full well that the synths are completely sentient and have free will, but he still makes more so they have plenty of slaves. He even made himself one to… take the place of his dead wife.” 

“Oh my God,” Haylen murmured. 

Erica grimaced. “Yeah. That’s about where I’m at too. These people… they have no consciences. Getting info out of Advanced Systems is going to be trickier, though. Dr. Li is a tough nut to crack. She’s former Brotherhood and a fairly recent addition to the Institute. She didn’t grow up there like a lot of them did, but she’s already a department head.” 

MacCready looked up suddenly. “Did you say Dr. Li? That… can’t be. That’s a common last name… it can’t be the same person.” 

Erica turned to him. “She’s from D.C. originally,” she said. “She could very well be the person you’re thinking of.” 

“But… she was one of the good guys! She’s one of the main reasons why the Capital Wasteland has water now!” MacCready sputtered. “How could she be working for the Institute of all places?”

“She’s… confusing,” Erica said. “She seems hell bent on her research and nothing else. Would the Brotherhood have let her pursue her work?”

“Probably not,” MacCready conceded. “I was still a kid at the time, so I didn’t know her personally. Her name was just part of the legend that kind of grew up around the whole thing over the next few years before I left.” 

“Well, she’s not exactly open and forthcoming,” Erica said. “Nick’s creation was obviously long before her time, but she’s not going to let me just go digging around in those files without a really good reason. So I’ll try Dr. Binet first. As far as the serum for Dr. Virgil goes… I found the FEV lab. It’s pretty heavily guarded though. There’s a fucking assaultron in there. I barely got back out. I’m going to need some help with that.”

“But none of us can go with you,” Preston said.

“I know. I’ll… try to figure something out.” She sighed. “The immediate problem is this synth situation. If I don’t follow through, I can’t go back and then I won’t even have the chance to try again.” 

“So what’s the story on this synth you’re supposed to catch?” Deacon asked. 

“Well, you guys apparently mind-wiped him at some point, and then he somehow got himself involved with raiders. Now he leads a bunch of them. He goes by Gabriel.” 

Deacon shook his head. “Yeah, that’s the thing about free will. Sometimes people make some pretty shitty decisions. Still better than the alternative, though.” He considered the information for a moment. “So are you supposed to kill him or what?” 

“Deactivate and bring him back.” 

The spy winced. “Shit. Des is gonna hate this.”

Erica nodded. “I know. I don’t want to break cover so soon though.” 

“I agree,” he replied, resigned. “Okay, as the official representative of the Railroad, I’m authorizing this mission. Just… don’t tell Des.”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’m not in a big hurry to face the wrath of Desdemona.” 

“I do have a message from her, though, for when you go back,” Deacon continued. “We have an informant inside the Institute, goes by the name of ‘Patriot.’ Whoever this person is, they’ve been in contact with us, helping synths get out. Tom has a holotape for you so that you can get in touch with Patriot.” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out one of the small orange tapes. “Upload this when you go back. I understand you have a computer in your room there?”

She took the tape and slid it into her own pocket. “Yes, but I don’t know if it’s being monitored. If it were me in charge, I’d be monitoring it, expecting something like this.” 

“Then find a safer computer. Hopefully Patriot will have some ideas for how we can get more synths out.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” She turned to Hancock. “I’m going to head out to the coast in the morning to meet up with the courser and catch this synth.”

His eyes opened wide. “You’re… working with a courser?” 

Her smile was tight. “You don’t actually expect them to just trust me with this on my own, do you?”

He sighed. “Good point. I can go with you.” 

She shook her head sadly. “That’s not going to work. I don’t trust the courser not to shoot at you too. I need to take someone who… looks more like them.” 

“I’ll go with you,” Preston volunteered. 

Hancock pursed his lips. He hated having her out of his sight for such long periods of time. “Preston, stay in touch with me about things are going, okay?”

“Of course, Mayor.” 

Hancock stood up and offered his hand to Erica. “All right, meeting adjourned. Erica and Preston, you leave in the morning. I assume you’re supposed to report straight back once this Gabriel is caught?” 

Erica nodded. 

“Fan-fucking-tastic. I’m not going to waste my day fighting with Fahrenheit. I’ll deal with her tomorrow. The rest of you… don’t bug me unless Goodneighbor is burning down. And if it is, do me a favor and try to put it out yourselves first.”


	6. Chapter 6

He had to let her go tomorrow, but for the rest of the day and night she was all his, and he was determined to make the most of it. They headed straight for the State House and his quarters. They hadn’t really had any decent time together since before she’d been shot into the belly of the beast, and while it wasn’t really all that long ago in terms of days, so much had changed that it felt like eons had passed. 

He nodded to members of the Watch as they passed, trusting them to do exactly what their name proclaimed and keep an eye on things. His hand found hers and their fingers linked together, so naturally, and almost without thought. She glanced at him, and he could see the gratitude and love in her eyes, and it made his heart thump a bit harder. 

Up in his room, he laid her down on his bed and stretched out next to her, removing his hat and coat and setting them aside. His arms slipped around her, and he pulled her to him, tucking her head under his chin. He inhaled, smelling soap and something slightly harsh that he couldn’t identify, likely a smell from the Institute. He was half tempted to draw her a bath and help her wash the smell of the place off, but figured she might feel hurt if he suggested it, so he kept his mouth shut. In the end it didn’t matter. She’d certainly smelled of worse things in their time together, and he loved her regardless of what aromas might be clinging to her.

His hands ran lightly up and down her back, and he heard a sigh of contentment leave her, the most positive sound he’d heard from her in nearly two weeks. A thought occurred to him, and he sat up suddenly. 

“What is it?” she asked, a touch of apprehension in her eyes. 

“Take off your shirt,” he said. 

“Getting right to the point are you?” she asked with an arched eyebrow. 

He chuckled. “Not quite. Just… trust me, okay?”

She smiled. “You know I do.” Sitting up herself, she unbuttoned her top, gazing at him the entire time, and then shrugged it off of her shoulders, removing her Pipboy and glasses as well and setting them on the bedside table. 

His eyes trailed down her torso, stopping at each new mark and scar she’d acquired in the time he’d known her. “Oh, Sunshine,” he breathed. “I wish I could keep all of this away from you.”

She replied with sad eyes. “I wish you could too. I know it’s impossible, but still.…” 

He nodded. “Lie down on your front,” he said.

Her eyes curious, she did as he asked, resting her head on her folded arms. Unsnapping her bra, he moved it aside and ran his hands down the length of her back, still mostly unmarked compared to the rest of her. He felt rather than heard her sigh and increased the pressure of his hands. His began gently massaging the muscles of her lower back, working his way up to her shoulders and then back down again. As he worked, he felt her slowly relaxing, her breathing evening out. She let out a quiet groan as he found an especially tight muscle along her side, and his gnarled fingers worked it, gradually increasing the pressure until he felt it release, drawing a satisfied moan from her. He had to grin; he was quite familiar with that particular moan. 

Her head turned to the side, revealing the relaxed look on her face. That line between her eyebrows that had been practically engraved there since her return from the Institute had softened, and her lips were slightly parted. 

“Thank you,” she breathed out. 

“Of course, Sunshine,” he replied, his voice soft, almost a purr. “Anything for you.” It wasn’t a lie, and it had definitely been tested recently. He wished desperately that he could go with her tomorrow—hell, he wished that he could accompany her to the fucking Institute—but she was right. There simply wasn’t a way that it could be done that wouldn’t put them both at risk. He hated thinking of the Railroad using his wife (his wife! He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of that realization) as a spy, but again, he recognized that other than running away and letting the whole of the Commonwealth go fuck itself, there weren’t a lot of other options. This was their best chance of getting rid of the Institute once and for all, as frustrating as it was that it seemed to fall so heavily on the shoulders of the woman he loved. The least he could do was help to relieve the stress and tension such a heavy responsibility put on those shoulders. 

He continued to gently massage her until her breathing was slow and even. Glancing at her face, he realized that she had fallen asleep. He smiled, leaned over, and lightly kissed her on the forehead before pulling his own shirt up and over his head and lying down next to her. Without waking, she snuggled up against him, and he revelled for a moment in the feel of her soft skin against the rough texture of his own. His hands lightly stroked her arms and back, and he held her while the shadows in the room lengthened and slowly gave way to darkness. 

  
  
  
  


He woke up to a chill in the room. Night had fully fallen, and they both remained above the covers, shirts off, wrapped up in each other. While she remained asleep, she shivered slightly, but with the quilt beneath them, he unfortunately had no way of warming them up without waking her. 

Her Pipboy sat on the nightstand where she had left it, and he flicked it on for a moment to check the time. 2:48 a.m. The device ticked slightly at such close proximity to a ghoul. “Oh shut the fuck up,” he muttered irritably and set it aside.

He squeezed the arm that was around her shoulders and whispered into her ear. “Sunshine….” 

She almost immediately started awake and sat up. “What?” Her voice was full of fear. 

“Shhh. It’s okay. It’s just me. I just wanted to get you under the covers. It’s cold in here.”

She rubbed a hand over her eyes. “Oh… okay.” She sighed. “What time is it?” 

“Nearly three in the morning.” 

“Holy shit, for real?” She glanced down at him. “I don’t even remember when I fell asleep. I remember you rubbing my back and that’s it.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, that’s about the size of it.” 

She leaned over him. “Thank you for that, by the way. I really needed it.” 

“I know, Sunshine,” he said, gently moving a stray curl from her eyes. Her hair was starting to grow out a bit again, and it was a little wild at night. He loved her wild hair—it was such a part of her. “Let’s get you under the covers, okay?”

She nodded and scooted to the edge of the bed before standing up. While he pulled the quilt back, she removed her pants and then climbed back in. He paused to do the same, and as he slid beneath the quilt, he pulled her to him once again. His hands traced lightly over her bare skin, and she sighed with each caress. He ran one hand up her torso and over her breasts. When he reached her chin, he used two fingers to gently lift her face to his and placed a kiss on her lips. She responded immediately, opening her mouth, and his tongue flicked across her lips for a moment before deepening the kiss. She rolled over slightly until her face was hovering over his, and her own hand slid up his chest to his face, which she lightly caressed with the back of her hand. 

“I love you so much,” she said.

He grinned. “Right back atcha, Mrs. Hancock.” 

Her responding laugh touched his heart, and he pulled her to him. She snuggled in, and soon both were once again sound asleep. 


	7. Chapter 7

They slept late the next day, neither one ready to let the other go quite yet. Finally, they reluctantly pulled themselves out of bed, got dressed, and headed down to the street to meet the others. With promises from Erica and Preston that they would be careful and that each would return as soon as possible, the two headed out to go deal with the raider synth and the small group seeing them off slowly dispersed. 

Hancock heaved a heavy sigh and went to go hunt down Fahrenheit. He’d thought she’d accepted Erica’s place in his life and didn’t know why she was taking this so hard. Since the last time he’d had to try to talk her down, she and Magnolia had moved into a place of their own, a move he whole-heartedly supported. Magnolia had a way of tempering his daughter’s fire, and the whole town benefited from Fahrenheit’s slightly calmer disposition. 

The recently cleared out warehouses had been converted into apartments, and Hancock let himself in and up the stairs to the unit where Fahr and Magnolia lived. Once again, he knocked on the door, and once again, Magnolia opened it, her face filled with concern. At least she was dressed this time. 

His voice sounded tired and resigned. “Hey, Magnolia. Mind if I have a little chat with my daughter?” 

“I was expecting you,” the singer said in her husky voice. “Good luck. I’ll give you two some space.” 

“Thanks, sister.” She sidled past him and he entered the small apartment. Fahr sat on a sofa, glaring daggers at him. Better than actual daggers, but the stare still hurt. “So what’s the problem this time?” he asked. 

“I don’t need another mother. One was plenty.” She stood up and strode across to him until she was nose and… well… empty space with him. “This keeps getting worse and worse, and all you do is tangle yourself up in it further. Why? What’s in it for you?” 

He sighed. Leaving her standing, he stepped past her and sat on the couch, on the opposite end from where she had been sitting. He pulled a pack of smokes from his pocket and lit one. “You do know she ain’t gonna tell you to take a bath or brush your hair, right? She ain’t actually your mother, and she knows that perfectly damn well. In fact, she’s probably just as scared of you as you are of her.” 

Fahrenheit’s eyes narrowed. “I am  _ not _ scared of her. How  _ dare _ you?”

“You’re scared of something, although I’ll be damned if I know what.” He set the cigarette pack down on the coffee table and waved a hand at it, inviting her to take one. Instead, she pulled her own battered pack from her pocket and lit one. “Suit yourself,” he said. 

She smoked and glared at him in silence for a minute or two. He knew how valuable silence could be and smoked his own cigarette, letting his eyes wander around the small living room. It was tidy, a quality he attributed to Magnolia rather than Fahrenheit. The chess board set up on the table by the little kitchen, though… that was entirely Fahr. He nodded at it. “Want a game?” 

This at least cut through the stony silence, and one corner of her mouth curled into a smirk. “I’ll kick your ass, you know. I always do.”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.” He’d certainly spent quite a bit of time recently trying to get himself and Erica out of tight spots. Could be he’d have a few new tricks up his sleeve. 

She set up the board and sat down on the couch beside him. He held a smile in. Every small step was progress. The first move was hers, and a pawn began his journey across the board. He responded in kind, and the game was on. 

The silence held for a while as their pieces slowly advanced on each other. She didn’t speak again until her knight had captured his rook. “It’s not her I’m afraid of. It just feels like… everything is on the verge of falling apart, and she seems to be the one who brings the chaos every time. I want things to go back to how they were before she showed up.” 

He noticed that she was setting up a familiar set of moves that she’d beaten him with before and quickly moved his bishop out of the way to thwart her. A line briefly appeared between her eyebrows, letting him know he’d thrown her off. 

“Not sure why you think things were all that great then,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “Neither of us were particularly happy.” 

“Maybe not,” she said, trying a different tactic. “But at least I always knew how things stood.” 

He captured one of her knights, earning him a small growl. “So you’d prefer predictability to happiness? Does Magnolia know that?” 

Her gray eyes, surprisingly similar to Erica’s, flashed at him. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it? Why are you the only one entitled to a relationship?”

“I’m not! But mine doesn’t… upheave everything in the Commonwealth!” 

“Fahr… everything was already in upheaval,” he said, his rough voice quiet and patient. “Do you really expect me to stand aside and do nothing while people get stolen and replaced? People have the right to live their own lives. And now that what we know all the other bullshit the Institute’s been getting up to… it was only a matter of time before everything came to a head. At least now it’s on our terms.” 

She shook her head, frustrated, and moved a rook. He could tell that she was flustered and this move wasn’t carefully planned. He also noticed that he could checkmate her in three more moves. 

“She’s going to get you killed,” Fahr said in a low voice he could barely hear. “There’s been too many close calls.” 

Her next move played right into his hands, and he captured her other knight. “If she gets me killed, you’ll be in charge here, you know,” he responded calmly, watching her face to gauge her reaction. 

Her eyes darted up to his face, horrified. “That’s not what I want!” She moved a bishop.

He nodded, satisfied, and moved his queen. “Checkmate.” Her eyes flew back down the board in shock. She studied the placement of the remaining pieces for a moment, hoping to prove him wrong, and then, narrowing her lips, she tipped over her king. 

“You win,” she muttered through clenched teeth. “You’ve never beat me before.” 

“You got flustered and weren’t doing your best thinking, and I took advantage of that. Winning chess ain’t just about outthinking your opponent, Fahr. Nobody can beat you at that. But you can also win if you get your opponent scrambling and have the element of surprise on your side.” 

Her eyes met his and it was immediately apparent that she knew he wasn’t just talking about chess. “You really think you can take them by surprise?”

He nodded slowly. “She has so many people on her side, Fahr. And we’ve already done so many things already that were supposedly impossible. Those bastards ain’t gonna know what hit ‘em.” 

She leaned back into the couch with a huff and lit another cigarette. “I’m not going to call her ‘mom,’” she said. 

“I think that’s a good call,” he replied with a chuckle, lighting up another smoke himself. The smoke hung in a haze over the board. He leaned over and clapped her on the shoulder. “Good talk, kiddo.” 

She moved away from his hand and glared at him. “I could still stab you, you know.” 

“I know,” he said with a grin. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of fresh chapter last week! I was feeling really crummy and couldn't concentrate to write. Back to business now!

Two days later, Preston turned up at the door to Hancock’s room early in the morning. After grumbling a bit about being woken up so goddamn early (he had really tied one on down at the Rail the night before), Hancock let Preston in and then flopped on the couch. 

“I assume since you’re here everything went off without a hitch?” he asked as he lit a cigarette. 

“Pretty much,” Preston answered, lighting his own. “That courser we met up with, though….” He shuddered. “I know perfectly well that with most synths you would never know the difference, and that’s why people are so terrified of them. This guy? Cold as ice and could never be mistaken for human.” 

Hancock recalled the courser they’d encountered back at Greenetech. “Yeah, the one we took down to get the chip was just the same. Creepy as hell.”

“I wonder how much he knew about that... if he knew that Erica had taken down one of his… brothers, I suppose.” 

“It’s hard to say. Seems like that psychopath son of hers treated the whole damn thing like a game for his enjoyment, so I’d say it’s pretty likely that he didn’t pass around that information. And a courser is just a tool to them, not a fellow person to confide in.” 

“Good point.” Preston sighed. “They were set up in this… floating city. I’m not sure what else to call it. A huge tangle of boats and other watercraft with floating walkways in between. I was terrified of falling in the water. Luckily, this bunch were mostly like any other group of raiders: high as kites—”

“Hey now,” Hancock grumbled. 

Preston grinned. “Yeah, but you make it work. These guys were just sloppy though, fortunately for us. We had a really bad moment when one of those lunatics turned out to have a fat boy and launched a nuke at us—”

“Holy shit!” Hancock interrupted again.

“Yeah, that was my initial reaction, too. Damn near pissed myself. Fortunately, the nuke went soaring right over our heads and into the water behind us.”

Hancock started laughing. “I’m sorry… I know it ain’t funny, but….” 

Preston laughed too. “Oh, I know. We completely cracked up. Probably mostly because we were grateful to not have been blown to smithereens. Thank goodness he only had the one nuke! That courser— X-something...I didn’t catch the numbers—was looking at us as if we were insane. Maybe we were. I felt a little insane in the moment.” He cleared his throat. “But that was really the only bad moment. When we got to the huge tanker they were using as headquarters, the courser gave Erica this code that just… shut the guy down. Once the other raiders were taken care of, the three of them flashed and were gone.” 

Hancock nodded slowly. “We’ll have to bring Deacon up to speed on how the operation went down.” 

Preston nodded as well, then sighed and lit another cigarette. “On my way back out I took a moment to poke through some of the terminals they had hooked up. The whole thing was a pretty impressive setup, actually. Now that it’s cleared out, it might work as a settlement for some of our folks, as long as they’re not afraid of water. I wouldn’t want any kids out there, though. Anyway, the stuff I found out on the computers…. Those raiders? They used to be Minutemen.”

Hancock raised his hairless eyebrows. “No shit?”

“A group that settled out there a few years back after General Becker died. I guess it started out as just trying to seek help—they were really low on food and other supplies, then a couple of the guys knocked over a few caravans. The first time it happened, those guys were made an example of, but then things got more desperate… and eventually they just became full-on raiders.” He shook his head sadly. “I used to know some of those guys. I’m… not sure whether they recognized me or not.” 

Hancock nodded his head slowly. “I’m sorry, man. That must have been awful.” He passed Preston one of his cigarettes, which the other man accepted gratefully. 

“It’s pretty hard sometimes, to see how low some of us fell.” Preston studied his feet for a moment before looking up again. “Oh, before I forget and walk off with it—she found this, and wanted me to bring it back for you.” He stood up and went over to his traveling pack. A shotgun was strapped to the back of it, which Hancock hadn’t noticed before. Preston pulled it free and passed it over to him. 

After a quick inspection, Hancock whistled in admiration. “This is a nice weapon!” 

“Well, it’s all yours. Enjoy.” Preston sat back down and lit the cigarette.

Hancock took a moment to crack it open and check the barrels, then put it back together and set it aside, pleased that Erica had thought to pick it up for him, even in the middle of a stressful operation accompanied by an Institute courser. “Any idea when she’ll be back?” 

“We talked a bit on our way out there. She’s got a lot to do… she has to make nice with the various heads of the departments to try to get a hold of those files for Nick, plus she’s supposed to make contact with this Patriot fellow. She also says she has a plan to get into that lab so she can get the serum for Dr. Virgil.” 

Hancock looked and felt flabbergasted. “That’s too much! She ain’t really planning on doing all that before she gets back, is she?” 

Preston shrugged. “I don’t think so, but it’s hard to tell sometimes with her.”

Hancock barked out a laugh in response. “Ain’t that the truth. She don’t know when to quit once she’s got her mind wrapped around something.” He sighed. “I guess we just wait now.” 

“I’m sorry, Mayor. I know this has to be incredibly hard on you.” 

“Well, it ain’t no picnic, that’s for damn sure.” He lit one more cigarette, finishing off his pack. He’d have to stop by Daisy’s today and pick up another carton since apparently his plan was to chain smoke until his wife (his _wife_! He’d never get tired of that...) got back. 

Preston stood up. “I’ve been traveling all night, so I’m going to go catch some shut-eye. I wanted to get back as soon as I could to give you an update.” 

Hancock nodded. “Thanks, Preston. I appreciate it.” He saw the Minuteman out, then sat at his desk, idly playing with his knife as he worried about Erica. Once again, he wished he could be there with her. The not knowing was torture. He opened one of his desk drawers and rummaged around until he found a canister of Jet. If nothing else, he could at least enjoy time while it passed.

  
  
  
  
  
  


To his surprise, she turned up later that same afternoon in a flash of blue light. They’d arranged for her to teleport straight into his room (her room, too, really) to avoid terrifying the residents of Goodneighbor. 

Still slightly stoned (he’d spent the afternoon huffing Jet for a lack of anything better to do), he thought at first she must be a hallucination, until she sat down next to him and laid her head on his shoulder. 

“Rough afternoon?” she asked with a touch of laughter in her voice.

“They’re all rough when you’re not here,” he answered, his voice huskier than usual with emotion. He put an arm around her and held her close while his high slowly wore off. 

“Well, I have news,” she announced. 

He gazed at her, eyebrows raised. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. First off, I tracked down this Patriot guy. You’re not going to believe this.…” 

“Try me.” 

She gave him a slight smirk. “I plan to, before I head back.” He grinned at her. He loved his cheeky Sunshine. “Anyway, he’s practically a kid! And he’s the son of one of the head scientists! One of the leaders of Robotics!” 

“That… doesn’t sound like great news to me, Sunshine.” He frowned. “That actually sounds pretty damn risky.” 

“It’s the doctor who replaced his dead wife with a synth slave.” She shuddered.” Liam—that’s Patriot’s actual name, probably keep that to yourself—isn’t super thrilled about that. But the point is that he is already about to lead a small rebellion, and now I have the in I need in Robotics to search through their files for Nick’s data.” She reached for his hand. “I can’t stay long, so I need you to pass this info along to Desdemona and Deacon, okay? I’m going to tackle those files when I get back there.”

He nodded and then ran a finger from her cheekbone to her neck, down her shoulder, and along her arm. “You can stay a little longer, though… right?”

“Didn’t I just say I was planning on it?” she said with a smile before scooting over and settling herself in his lap.


	9. Chapter 9

It was hours before she finally returned to the Institute, and Hancock enjoyed every single minute of it. After she left, he lay in his bed for a while longer, smoking, before finally sighing and swinging his legs around to put on pants. He needed to make that run to Railroad headquarters to give Deacon and Des the latest update. 

Normally, he’d go ahead and delegate a shit detail like that and either spend the night getting fucked up or just go to sleep, but he thought this information didn’t need to get passed through too many people. When that happened, the odds increased exponentially of the specifics getting garbled or forgotten, so he was better off just delivering the message himself. He wished MacCready was up for the trip—he wasn’t the biggest fan of heading out into the city alone—but the sniper just wasn’t up to snuff yet, even for this short jaunt. Maybe Preston? Nah… let the guy get some rest. Yeah, he was going to be on his own for this one. That’s okay… he could think of it as a workout, keeping the ol’ killer instinct nice and fresh. 

He probably had two or three hours of sunlight left, and that was fine. He could move pretty quietly when he wanted to, so light or dark wouldn’t make too much of a difference. He pulled on his ruffled shirt and his poor, battered signature coat, which was definitely looking the worse for wear these days. He slapped his hat on his head and took a moment to inspect the new shotgun Erica had procured for him. He wanted to take it, but he hadn’t had the chance to test fire it yet or learn its little quirks (every weapon had its own quirks, and it was up to the user to learn and respect these). Until he could get some practice time in with it, he would be much better off taking the trusty shotgun that had served him so well for so long. 

He was nearly to the gate before Fahrenheit caught up with him. 

“Hey—where you going?” she said. 

“I need to deliver a message,” he replied. He could have lied, said he was going out for a stroll in the fucking moonlight or some such shit, and he probably would have in the past, but he saw no purpose in it. 

She looked at him, a touch incredulous. “You? You’re delivering the message? You didn’t sucker someone else into doing it for you?”

He grinned. She knew him so well. “It’s a pretty important message, and I don’t want it to either get garbled… or fall into the wrong hands.” 

Understanding bloomed in her eyes, and she nodded. “You sure you don’t want company?”

“Yeah, I ain’t going far. It’ll be fine.” He adjusted his hat. “See you soon.” 

  
  
  
  
  


He’d had quite some time now to regret those words, regret not just taking Fahr with him, regret not sending someone else with this goddamn message. Why was he so fucking secretive when he had a full team of people behind him, people he could supposedly trust? What the hell was wrong with him? 

Firelight flickered in the hallway, outside the barred-off room where he was being held. Although fully dressed, he felt naked without his trusty shotgun, and one of those assholes had taken his hat! Fucking idiots, though… they had missed the knife he kept up his sleeve, and the one who had taken his hat was going to pay. His teeth gleamed in the faint light as he contemplated exactly how he would deal with that piece of shit, allowing his incredibly creative imagination to run wild. 

He just had to get out of here somehow. 

He’d searched the small room, pulled on the bars, even attempted to jimmy the lock with his knife… no dice. His head ached brutally where one of those fuckers had clubbed him with the stock of their rifle. 

And he was furious. They never should have been able to get the drop on him. His hearing had never recovered after the multiple close quarters explosions over the past month or so, and the raiders had managed to approach him from the right, which was now, for all intents and purposes, his deaf side. He’d never even heard them coming. His goddamn pride would be the death of him. 

Fahr was the only person who knew he was gone, and he wondered how long it would take before she raised the alarm. He had to accept that it could be days… and it probably would depend on how soon Erica made it back. She would at least realize that the Railroad had never received the message about Patriot and know something was wrong. In the meantime, though, he settled in with a sigh, back against the wall, ready to wait it out. 

  
  
  
  
  


Despite the deplorable conditions, the rank stink of death and decay, and the occasional gunshot (he didn’t know how these raider gangs managed to stay together—they were constantly getting into arguments over bullshit like whose canister of Jet was whose and then shooting each other), he managed to doze off. The rattling of keys against the barred door woke him, and he glared at the bitch with the poorly shaved head who was grinning at him fiercely, missing teeth and all. 

“Boss wants to talk to you, you ugly fucker,” she crooned. 

“You lookin’ in the mirror or something?” he retorted with a grin. “Cause you’re the only ugly one I see here.” 

Her face twisted before rearranging itself back into its previous overconfident mask. Clearly he’d struck a nerve. Good. “You and the boss man, both a couple of the ugliest motherfuckers I ever seen. Get your ugly ass up and let’s go.”

He slowly got to his feet, glaring at her, black eyes narrowed and dangerous. She’d pay along with the rest of them. There’d be nothing left of her but a stain on the pavement by the time he was done. He could feel the cold steel of his dagger against his arm and it was a comfort. It wouldn’t take much to outsmart them—he was sure of that. It was just a matter of waiting for the right time. 

She led him down a dark hallway, and he finally placed where he was… Haymarket Mall. The place had been a hotbed of raider activity for years. No matter how many times it got cleared out, those fuckers just kept returning. In his efforts to avoid the super mutant-infested Faneuil Hall, he’d gone a bit too far to the west and must have practically stumbled right into these idiots’ camp. 

He walked along quietly, but his eyes roamed the entire time, determined not to miss a thing. They passed a few other smaller rooms that had been little shops once upon a time and now served as rooms for raiders to fuck each other and get wasted on Psycho. He also made note of a couple doors that probably led back outside and spotted the tripwires and makeshift bombs his “hosts” had used to keep them more secure. A couple of turrets turned on the walkways of the upper level as well. It didn’t appear that brute force was going to get him out of here… he’d have to rely on his brains. He shrugged his shoulders just enough that he could feel the shift of the little tin of Mentats he kept in his inner jacket pocket. They really had done a shit job of patting him down—they were probably far too excited about the prize they had nabbed. 

The woman led him up a set of stairs until they arrived at what was apparently the main gathering hall. He immediately spotted his tricorn hat perched on the head of some asshole with graying teeth. Yeah, that son of a bitch was going to be sorry… no doubt about it. He allowed himself to be pulled forward by the woman until he was presented to the leader of this particular gang. To his surprise, it was someone he recognized—a ghoul he’d crossed paths with before, who’d been trying to take Goodneighbor apart for some time. 

Hancock growled the other ghoul’s name through clenched teeth: “Sinjin.” 


	10. Chapter 10

“Thought you’d made a home up in the hospital,” Hancock growled. 

“Been a lot of hits on the gangs lately,” Sinjin replied with a sneer. “Better to lay low a bit. Didja hear about the hit on Libertalia? Cleared Gabriel and his whole gang clean out.”

“Yeah, I heard about it.” Hancock couldn’t help but smirk a bit.

“Based on reports, seems like maybe you might be involved. Whatcha think about that?”

Hancock’s hairless brows raised. “Not sure why you’d say that.”

“Coupla my guys followed that Minuteman back from the boats. Not sure what happened to the girl and the other guy. Maybe they died out there on the water. Maybe they ran off together to go fuck without an audience.” He glanced at Hancock with a dark grin filled with decaying teeth. He clearly knew more than he was letting on. “But that do-gooder asshole high-tailed it straight back to Goodneighbor. You hiring the Minutemen to do your work now? There’s a fuckin’ joke.” Sinjin snickered and the rest of his gang murmured approving laughter. 

Hancock didn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer.

“So that’s why I’m here instead of the hospital. And that’s why _you’re_ here. Nice stroke a luck, ain’t it—ol’ Hancock, Mayor of Goodneighbor, practically walkin’ right into my humble abode.” He grinned and pulled a large knife out of its sheath at his waist and fiddled with it, a trick Hancock was far too familiar with to be intimidated by. “I been waiting for this moment. I know perfectly damn well you cleared out Skinny Malone and the rest a them Triggerman that called Goodneighbor home. Ain’t that some kinda fuckin’ hospitality.” 

“They’d kidnapped a good friend of mine, Sinjin. I think maybe you know how I feel about that? Seems to me maybe they’d abused the hospitality Goodneighbor had offered. Ain’t that the exact reason you ain’t welcome in my town anymore?” 

“ _Your_ town.” Sinjin spit on the floor. “Where the fuck do you get off? You ain’t any better than the tyrants you claim to hate so much.” 

Sinjin was poking right at one of Hancock’s biggest fears, but Hancock refused to give him the reaction he was so clearly seeking. He spoke softly, although his voice was clear and strong. “I’m just the Mayor, Sinjin. The people are in charge, and I follow the will of the people. And when the people say they want to sleep safely at night and drink down in the Rail without fear of getting randomly stabbed, I’m inclined to both listen and agree.” He paused and glanced around the room. “What exactly is it you want? Are you hoping to ransom me or what?” 

“Nah. I got plenty a caps, and I know perfectly well how to get more. You’re bait, my friend. Best case is I draw out that feisty redhead you like to leave in charge. The bunch of us can easily take her, even with that big fucking gun she likes to carry around. And could be I got a taste for redheads.” 

Hancock snarled in response, drawing a grin out of Sinjin.

“And worst case, you waste away in that little cage a yours and we just go rollin’ right in through the front gate. No big deal, and I ain’t got a preference. Either way, I get Goodneighbor, and the town goes back to the way it used to be before you and yours took over.”

Hancock’s teeth ground against each other. While there seemed to be an obvious plan C that would work out in both his and Goodneighbor’s favor, he didn’t have a way of getting a message out to the people who needed one. All he could do was wait and hope Fahrenheit wasn’t headstrong enough to come on her own and that Erica returned from her most recent Institute trip fairly quickly. 

Sinjin turned to the woman who had brought Hancock to him. “Take him back to his cage, Kate. Then come see me. Could be I got a nice reward for your work.” He grabbed his crotch to make his point, and Hancock rolled his eyes. Kate licked her lips, though, before grabbing Hancock’s arm, which immediately gave him an idea. He was silent as Kate walked him back, waiting for the right moment. 

He allowed himself to be shoved back into the small room and then turned to her as she was locking the barred door. “Gotta thing for the big boss, do ya?” he asked. 

She narrowed her eyes at him. “He takes care of me, and I take care of him. What’s it to you? I ain’t interested in your skinny ass.”

He chuckles. “Good, because I ain’t interested in you either. I’m wondering though… his plans for the red head. That don’t bother you? You don’t mind… sharing?”

Just as he’d predicted, her face darkened. “That ain’t my business.” 

“Kinda seems to me it might be. Or at least you should make it your business.” Nothing like sowing the seeds of discontent to drag a gang apart. They were usually barely held together as it was.

“Fuck off,” she snarled, and she stormed off, presumedly to go get her reward. He grinned in the dim light and settled in to wait. 

  
  
  
  


It was unclear how much time had passed. All he knew was that he was both hungry and thirsty, and his body ached from sleeping on the floor. He sighed, wishing he at least had some Jet to pass the time. He pulled his Mentats tin from his pocket and counted them. He was hesitant to take one. Yes, it might give him the mental boost he needed to figure his way out of this situation, but it would also make him thirsty, and that had the potential to make his situation worse. He was too exhausted to think on the situation further, and he put them away.

He sighed and sat up. It had been a couple days, at least, with no food or water. Apparently Sinjin really did intend to let him waste away in here. Funny, he thought he was a more valuable hostage than that. He had no fear of Sinjin’s threat of a frontal attack. Even if Hancock himself was out of the picture, the other citizens of Goodneighbor—and the extra folks staying in town while they dealt with this Institute situation—would easily be able to hold off this half-assed gang, regardless of what Sinjin might think. He chuckled a little at the thought of Sinjin shitting his pants when Brian Virgil joined the fight. 

His worry wasn’t for Goodneighbor. The town would be fine. 

And it didn’t seem that Fahrenheit had come looking for him. Either that or the seed he’d planted in Kate’s ear had bloomed, and if Fahr _had_ been sniffing around, everyone had hunkered down to let her pass, likely without even knowing that anyone was here in the mall. 

He missed Erica desperately. That was his one regret right now. Yes, Goodneighbor would be fine, but it depressed him to his bones to think that he might die without the opportunity to tell her goodbye or to hold her one last time. He could almost imagine her sitting next to him, caressing his ruined skin, saying his name….

“John? Are you okay?”

Oh, great. He must be hallucinating. It was one thing to hallucinate after a nice dose of Med-X or Jet, but it was something altogether different when the voices were caused by starvation and dehydration. He groaned in exhaustion and despair. He missed his Sunshine—what a cruel trick for his own brain to play on him! 

“Fahr, can you pick this? He looks like he’s in pretty bad shape.” 

Huh. What an oddly specific hallucination his brain had provided. He could even hear the sound of metal on metal, creaking and clicking, then a snap followed by a curse. 

“Hand me another bobby pin, woudja? Preston, is anyone coming?” A low voice murmured in the negative. Seemed his brain had managed to dredge up a whole cast of characters. He tried to force his eyes open, willing the dream or hallucination or whatever it was to end. It was just too much, and he’d prefer his cold cage to the anguish of false hope. 

A moment later, he heard a click and a sigh of relief, then hands on his coat. “Fahr, grab the water.” Soon after, he could feel the rough texture of an open carton pressed against his lips. “Drink this for me, love. It’s irradiated. It’ll help.” Cool water hit his lips, and instinctively, he opened his mouth and swallowed. Despite the initial cool sensation, when the water hit his tongue, it tingled, and the small sip he took felt warm all the way down. It was enough to get him to open his eyes. 

To his shock and wonder, Erica’s face was right in front of his, concern furrowed into her brow. “Hey,” she said, her voice warm and gentle. His arms came up and he pulled her to him, no hallucination at all but here, really here, and he crushed his dry lips against her soft ones. She had come for him after all, and his heart bloomed with hope.


	11. Chapter 11

A low whistle sounded outside the room. Fahr crouched in the doorway, and her head turned toward the sound in a way that was almost birdlike, causing Hancock to crack a small smile from where he sat against the wall, Erica’s arm around him, slowly sipping on irradiated water. 

“That’s the signal,” Erica murmured. “Someone’s coming, and we need to get out of here.” 

Hancock looked surprised. “We ain’t gonna stick around and kill them all?” 

A tight smile crossed her face. “As much as I think we would all enjoy that, we can’t risk any more injuries. I passed the message along to Des about Patriot, but we need to get back to Goodneighbor so I can get back to the Institute. Plus, I have a surprise for you….” 

He looked at her appraisingly. “Oh yeah? Whatcha got?” 

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise,” she said in a light singsong, a more authentic smile dancing across her lips. 

A moment later, Preston appeared in the dim light. “A woman is coming,” he whispered. 

“Probably that bitch Kate,” Hancock growled. “Should be able to take her down pretty quick. One of Sinjin’s buddies still has my fucking shotgun and hat though.” 

“We’ll probably have to leave without them, John,” Erica said. “I’m sorry… we just don’t have the resources to take everyone on right now.” 

“How can you say that?” He was starting to get frustrated. It was his _hat_! “You, Preston, and that courser took down the whole camp at Libertalia, and those assholes had a Fat Man! This fucker has been a pain in my ass for years now. Let’s just end it, and then I don’t have to worry about what he’s got up his sleeve next!”

“Hey!” The familiar voice of Kate rang out. 

“Goddammit,” Fahrenheit muttered and crept off to go deal with her. A moment later, the two women returned, Fahr’s knife at Kate’s throat. Kate grimaced, stretching the scar tissue at the corners of her mouth. Hancock wondered what kinds of horrors this woman had seen to turn her into what she had become. 

“You think you’re leaving?” Kate spat at the group. “He’ll be here in just a moment… you ain’t going nowhere!” Hancock couldn’t help but note that the fear in her eyes likely told another story.

“You’re scared of him, aintcha?” he asked. “That ain’t a strong foundation for a relationship, y’know.” 

Her fingers briefly went to the scars at the corners of her mouth, then her face hardened and she glared at him. “He trusts me, knows I can get the job done. I’m basically his second in command… I ain’t gonna start letting him down now!” She tried to push back against Fahrenheit, but Fahr only tightened her grip. Drops of blood appeared where the knife she held pressed against the skin of Kate’s neck. 

“One more word, and I will slit your throat,” Fahr hissed into Kate’s ear. “Do you understand me?”

Kate opened her mouth and the knife pressed harder. Whatever she was about to say turned into a hiss of pain, and she shut her mouth and nodded. 

Erica’s face was dark with a cold expression that surprised Hancock. “We’re probably going to have to kill her anyway… can’t have her running back to them, telling them what happened, who helped him get away.” 

Kate’s eyes widened and she shook her head. She may have been afraid of Sinjin, but in this moment, she was apparently even more fearful of Erica. 

“I’m sorry,” Erica murmured. “I hate killing people, I really do. But I can’t trust you.” She swallowed. Before she could speak again though, the sound of footsteps rang down the hall and Kate’s eyes blazed victorious. 

“I told you he was coming!” she crowed. “I told—” Before she could say anything further, Fahr’s knife slid across her throat, and she fell to the ground, lifeless. 

“I did warn her,” Fahrenheit said, almost conversationally, as she wiped her knife on a scrap of clothing hanging off a mannequin. 

Erica looked at the body on the floor with distaste as Preston appeared in the doorway. “They’re coming!” he said. “Do we get the hell out or stay and fight?”

“We fight!” Hancock said. 

At the exact same moment, Erica said, “We run!” They both looked at each other, faces filled with a combination of love and exasperation. 

“You don’t have a gun,” Erica pointed out.

“I know!” Hancock said. “That’s the whole fucking problem!” 

“We’re about to have the decision made for us,” Fahrenheit snarled. She replaced the knife in its sheath at her waist and turned to the side to pick up her minigun, Ashmaker, from where she had left it, just outside the shop-turned-cell. “Fuck it,” she said. “This shit is happening!” 

Rounds began to fly from the barrel of the minigun, spraying down the hallway as she let off burst after burst, a happy grin on her freckled face. A moment later, the familiar electric hum of Preston’s laser musket fire reached Erica’s and Hancock’s ears. 

“Goddammit,” Erica muttered. “So much for a quiet breakout.” She drew her .44 and ran to join in. Hancock frowned. He was just supposed to sit there and let them have all the fun? He quickly patted down the corpse of Kate (careful to avoid the pool of blood now spreading around her) and found a crummy pipe pistol that he didn’t trust to not blow up in his hand. 

“Fuck it,” he muttered, and stumbled over to Erica and Fahr. Preston had found himself some slightly higher ground, and the red bolts of his musket lit up the smoke gathering in the hallway from Ashmaker. Taking careful aim (he couldn’t help noting with pride), Erica carefully shot down asshole after asshole as they funneled into the hallway. He couldn’t believe how fucking stupid these raiders were, running at them practically one by one, making them incredibly easy to pick off. It made him feel almost ashamed to have been caught by them. 

Finally, he spotted one wearing a familiar hat and carrying a familiar shotgun. “Erica, there!” He tried to shoot, but the pipe pistol was so poorly put together, the shot went careening off against the wall.

“One moment!” Erica called, ducking back into the cell to reload her revolver. 

“I got him!” Preston called out, and sure enough, a red bolt dropped the tricorn-wearing raider carrying Hancock’s shotgun the very next second. He watched as his hat went flying and his much-loved weapon went clattering to the floor, but before he could dash forward, he felt Erica’s hand catch his arm. 

“Wait until they’re gone… then we can collect them.”

He frowned, but knew she was right. If he darted forward now, he risked being caught in the crossfire. The pipe pistol was all but useless, so he threw it aside, stepping back to light a cigarette, grumbling. If all he could do was sit and watch, it would have been nice to at least have had a little Jet. 

Soon, he heard Sinjin’s howl. “You fucking idiots!” the leader of the raiders yelled. Erica and Fahr exchanged a glance and the two women raced down the hall. Moments later, he heard the familiar crack of Erica’s .44—once, twice, three times, and then silence. Preston climbed down from the upper level, dropping to the floor and dusting himself off. Footsteps clicked, and soon both Erica and Fahr emerged from the smoky haze, Erica holding his shotgun and hat. 

“My hero,” he said with a crooked grin, thumping his tricorn onto his head. 

“You got that right,” she replied, and pulled him close against her.


	12. Chapter 12

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so glad to see those goddamn lights,” Hancock muttered as they rounded the corner and the bright, neon-wreathed gate of Goodneighbor came into view. Erica squeezed his hand and smiled at him. 

“I have a surprise that I think you’ll like,” she said. 

“Sounds good,” he said with a grin. “When did you get back, anyway?” 

“Yesterday morning,” she replied. “I couldn’t find you anywhere. Then I finally found Fahr, and she said you’d been missing for a few days and hadn’t made it to the Church. I was ready to freak out and tear the damn city apart, but she said she’d tracked you down to Haymarket and didn’t dare go in alone.”

He took a moment to bless Fahrenheit for having common sense for once in her life. “Good thing you got back when you did. I was hanging in there, but I’m not sure how much longer I would have lasted.” 

She looked at him, concerned. “You looked terrible when we first got in there. It scared the shit out of me.”

“Not sure how you could tell, given my face on a good day,” he grinned.

“I’m serious! I thought you were dead at first. I…. “ She stopped walking for a moment and shook her head. “I don’t know what I would have done.”

He stopped too and pulled her into his arms. “Hey, it’s okay, Sunshine. I ain’t dead. We’re okay, and that son of a bitch Sinjin is dead and I don’t have to worry about that particular asshole anymore. And apparently you have a surprise for me?”

She perked up a bit. “Oh, yeah—you’re going to love this.” 

Preston held the gate open, and Fahrenheit, Erica, and Hancock all stepped through. Hancock made a beeline for the door of the State House but was stopped by an unfamiliar man with dark hair and glasses wearing a lab coat that had clearly seen better days. 

“Mayor!” the man said, his voice cheerful.

“Do I… do I know you?” Hancock asked. He was still exhausted and severely underfed after his imprisonment. Was it affecting his memory?

“You do… but I look a little different now. It’s me, Brian Virgil!” 

Hancock’s mouth fell open. “You… the serum….” He turned to Erica. “You found the serum!” 

“Sure did,” she said with a grin. “It wasn’t easy, and it took a couple tries, but I was able to convince ‘Patriot’ to turn off the defenses in that area—which included deactivating an assaultron. He had a lot of questions about what I was doing but apparently decided to trust me. Dr. Virgil was able to treat himself yesterday morning, and after a bit of a rough day, was back to normal by evening.”

Hancock studied the man in front of him. “This is incredible. Is there more of this serum?”

Dr. Virgil shook his head. “No… but I was talking to Dr. Amari, and I want to try to replicate it. If we had a way to somehow treat the super mutants in the area…” He hung his head in shame. “It would at least be a start toward making up for some of the damage I’ve helped to do.” 

Hancock nodded his head slowly. “Let me know what you need. I’ll do my best to procure it, and Daisy has a way of tracking down all kinds of resources.” 

“Thanks, Mayor. I appreciate it. I’ll let you get back to your night.” Dr. Virgil nodded at them both, then headed off toward one of the warehouses that had been converted into apartments. Goodneighbor was growing. 

Hancock turned to Erica and wrapped his arms around her. “You’ve turned into a bona fide badass. You know that?”

She rested her head against his shoulder. “I don’t know about that… I’m just doing what has to be done.” 

He lightly rubbed his hands along her back. “Very few people would have gone to that kind of trouble for someone they barely know. Most would have just left him to die out in the Glowing Sea, in fact.”

“You know I couldn’t do that,” she murmured. 

“And thus I rest my case,” he said with a grin. “Badass.” 

“I can’t believe you just said ‘thus.’” 

“It’s my duty as Mayor to occasionally be a pompous asshole.” 

She swatted at him playfully. “Alright, you pompous asshole, head upstairs and I’ll be up in just a minute with something to eat. No offense, but you still look like shit.”

“I’ve always looked like shit,” he said. “Never heard you complain before.” She rolled her eyes at him, and he gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “See you soon, Mrs. Hancock.” He couldn’t help it—the words gave him a thrill to say. 

She smiled and gave him a proper kiss then turned toward the bar. He watched her go for a minute then headed upstairs. 

  
  
  
  
  


It wasn’t long before Erica returned, carefully balancing two covered bowls in one hand and a couple Nuka Colas in the other. “This takes me back to my brief stint working in a coffee shop during school,” she said. 

He quickly stepped over to her and grabbed a bowl and a soda from her and set them on the coffee table. He plopped himself down on the couch and pulled the bowl close, uncovering it to reveal a thick stew. “Radstag?” he asked, sniffing the rich aroma rising from the bowl. 

“Yao guai, actually,” she said. Before joining him on the couch, she kicked off her boots and removed her armor. He watched, his eyes eager, anticipating peeling the rest of her clothes off later on. Finally, she sat down next to him and picked up her own bowl. “Oh, that’s so good,” she said after taking a bite.

“Yeah, ol’ Charlie knows what he’s doing,” Hancock said. “He was a lucky find.”

“Oh yeah?” Erica replied with interest. “How did you find him?” 

“He was down in the basement of some old bar,” Hancock answered before taking another bite. “I was scavenging, trying to get the Third Rail set up, thinking I’d probably have to hire a human to tend, and I came across him clanking and complaining. He’d been fixing meals for nobody with whatever happened to turn up down there, mostly radroach. Before the war, he’d been programmed as a chef with a bunch of recipes and good enough AI that he could adapt recipes and develop new ones based on formulas and what was available. So I brought him back with me and just let him go to town. He acts pretty damn surly, but I think he’s happy to be out of that fucking basement.” He grinned. “And he saves me a fortune in caps since I didn’t have to hire an unreliable human.” 

She frowned at that. “Unreliable humans need jobs too, you know….” 

“Aw, Sunshine. I know that.” He popped open his Nuka Cola and took a long drink. “Could go for some bourbon to mix this with.…” 

“Not until you’re fully back on your feet,” she said. “You’re still dehydrated.”

“I know, I know. And to get back to what I was saying, I hire folks every chance I get. You know that.” 

She nodded. “I do… it’s just a sore spot, I guess. In the years just before the bombs fell, there was a lot of talk about how robots like Charlie were taking human jobs. Business owners loved it and said the same thing you just did—they could save a bunch of money and the robots were more reliable than the humans. It made a lot of people scared and upset. There were riots. Not so much in Boston, but in other places… like in mining country, down south. A lot of folks were displaced and in a really bad position… and nobody seemed to care.” 

He nodded thoughtfully. “I hear ya,” he said. “I was making a bad joke. I’m sorry.” 

“You’re already forgiven,” she said, curling up against him. “Dr. Virgil’s transformation wasn’t my only surprise by the way.” 

His hairless eyebrows flew up. “Nick’s files?”

“No, not yet… I tore Robotics apart, with a little help from Liam, and couldn’t find a thing. So I’m going to have to tackle Advanced Systems. That’s going to be a bit trickier though, with Dr. Li in charge there.” She sighed. “I’ll figure it out somehow.” 

“I know you will,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “But what’s this other thing I’m gonna like? My imagination is running wild.”

“I asked Daisy a while back to try to track something down for me, and one finally turned up.” She reached in her pocket and held her hand out. In her palm was a gold men’s wedding ring. “She said she thinks this ought to be your size. Now we can match. If you want to wear it, that is.”

“Are you kidding?” He all but snatched the ring out of her hand and slid it onto his finger. It fit perfectly, but he couldn’t help noticing the juxtaposition of the beautiful gold against his gnarled skin. She didn’t seem to care though; she immediately took his hand and leaned her head in for a kiss. 

“How long before you have to leave again?” he asked, brushing a curl away from her eye. “Hopefully, I have you for the night….” He winked at her.

She smiled. “Oh you definitely do. But.…” Her smile faded. “As far as the Institute knows, I’m here for another task. I think you can come along this time. I’m supposed to meet up with a courser near Bunker Hill and bring back a handful of synths. Remember when we went to Bunker Hill and thought that might be the location of the Railroad?” 

“Yeah. That old guy was definitely up to something with them, though.…” 

“He is. It’s basically a stopping point for escaped synths, and his job is to get them to a safehouse. So we were kind of right after all.” She sighed. “Anyway, I already warned Des about this. I’m not going along with it this time. We have a plan, but it makes me nervous. I’m going to protect these synths—which may mean killing the courser.”

“Aww, shit,” Hancock muttered. 

“I know, and I can’t take a big group with me this time—it’s too suspicious. There will be other Railroad heavies there, though, and they’re aware of the plan, so we should have help. I just have to be careful that it simply looks like I failed the mission. And we have to hope the Brotherhood doesn’t catch wind. The Railroad and the Institute at the same place? Far too tempting for them.”

“I don’t see how they would,” he said. 

“The Institute isn’t the only place in the Commonwealth with spies,” she replied, her voice dark. 

He was quiet for a moment before answering. “We’ll leave in the morning then.” 

“If you’re up for it,” she said. 

“I will be. I promise.” A little irradiated water ought to do the trick. If only he could summon a radstorm on command! He’d feel damn near godlike. “In the meantime, bed?”

She smiled. “Lead the way, my love.”


	13. Chapter 13

He held her tightly to him beneath the covers, her body warm against his. Her fingers ran along his torso, bumping over his prominent ribs. 

“Thank God we found you when we did… you’re so thin….” Her voice was soft and sad. 

“What’re you talking about, Sunshine? I’ve always been a scrawny little shit.” 

She snorted. “No, you’re lean. There’s a difference. I’ve never been able to feel your ribs like this before.” 

“Commonwealth’s a rough place,” he replied. “Trust me when I tell you that there’s been plenty of times when those ribs were standing out. And remember when you first staggered into this town? I betcha I could’ve counted every one of your ribs then too… not that you’d have let me at the time, of course,” he amended with a grin before kissing her on the tip of her nose.

“Are you sure you’ll be up to heading to Bunker Hill tomorrow?” she asked, nuzzling at the place where his neck met his shoulder.

A shiver rolled through him and his hands began to roam over her torso as well, one of them finding her breast and lightly caressing it, his thumb brushing over her nipple. “I’ll be fine, Sunshine. Don’t worry. Hate to say it, but I’ve been through a lot worse.” He felt her quiver as he rolled her hard nipple between his thumb and fingers, and a grin spread across his face. His other hand found her chin, and he turned her head toward his. “I’ll be fine,” he repeated before his mouth found hers. 

Her hands slid around to his back and he could feel her fingers tracing over the ridges and lines of the damaged skin there. It never failed to amaze him that she could want someone who looked like him, that she would actively reach out for him instead of turning away, repulsed. Somehow, with so many other—much better-looking in his estimation—options, she had not only chosen him, but fucking _married_ him, and he would never stop feeling grateful for that particular crazy twist of fate. 

His lips began working their way down her neck to her chest, finding the nipple that had so far been ignored tonight and pulling it into his mouth. His tongue lightly flicked against it, and he relished the way she quivered beneath him. 

“I can’t sleep when I’m at the Institute,” she murmured. “I miss having you next to me.”

He released her nipple and continued kissing his way down the soft skin of her belly before answering. “Same thing here, Sunshine. I keep reaching for you, and then you’re not there. Jars me awake.” 

“Not that you get much sleep when I _am_ here.” He could hear the smile in her voice. 

“Maybe,” he replied, lifting his head for a moment. “But the sleep I do get is better, and that’s what matters. Quality over quantity and all that shit.” He resumed kissing where he had left off and scooted himself further down her body, tossing the quilt back despite the slight chill in the room. They’d keep each other warm just fine. 

Finally between her legs, he dipped forward, his tongue finding her ready and waiting for him. Her hips jerked and she gasped, making him grin, pleased with himself. He revelled in the joy of teasing her, his tongue running along her folds, flicking at her clit. She bucked and writhed beneath him, and his hands moved to hold her hips in place, his tongue continuing to work against her, switching over to long, luxurious licks, enjoying the sighs and other small sounds she made in response. 

Releasing his tight grip on her hips, he trailed one hand over the crease where her leg met her torso, feeling her skin pebble up into goosebumps beneath him, until he could slide first one finger, then two, inside her. Her back arched up in response, and another cry escaped her. He felt himself twitch in response. Despite his eagerness to be inside her (and he was so damn eager… it had been a while), he continued to focus his attention on her and her pleasure. He pressed his fingers further inside her and found her clit with his lips and tongue, sucking gently while his tongue flicked against the sensitive little nub. Listening carefully to her gasps and groans, he waited until exactly the right moment, and then crooked his fingers and pressed…. 

His name fell from her lips over and over as her body shook with the waves of her orgasm rolling through her. He knew her so fucking well at this point, knew exactly what she liked and when, and it thrilled him to no end to see and feel her response to him. 

He gave her a moment to calm down, even as he pressed small kisses against her trembling inner thigh, then raised himself up and over her. As he bent down to kiss her, her arms wrapped around his neck, and she pulled him down to her. With one gentle motion, he slid inside her, and smiled as they both moaned, almost in perfect unison. As they moved in rhythm, he caressed her hair. The glint of the ring on his finger reflecting the lantern light caught his eye, making his heart pound even harder. He loved this woman so fucking much and was grateful for every single moment they shared. 

One of her legs hooked behind his, her heel pressing in just behind his knee, almost holding him in place. It nearly made him chuckle. She didn’t have to worry—he certainly wasn’t going anywhere! He picked up the pace slightly, and she responded immediately, the movement of her hips matching his almost perfectly. Their lips found each other, parted for a moment to allow for quick, gasping breaths, and then rejoined. 

“My Sunshine,” he breathed in his gentle rasp, and he felt her shiver. Her short haircut she’d received while on board the Prydwen was growing out, and her soft curls fell to her shoulders once more. His hand that had been stroking her hair tightened slightly, giving a lock a light tug that made her open her eyes in pleased surprise. Seemed he still had a few new tricks up his sleeve after all. He gave her ear a gentle nip, enjoying her shuddering breath in response.

Thrusting into her over and over, breathing hard, he felt the familiar pull within him. His lips sought out hers, then moved to her cheeks, her forehead, her jaw, her neck… wanting to kiss every inch of her he could possibly reach. As he approached his own tipping point, he felt her breathing pick up as well, small cries mixing in with her fast breaths. He reached between their bodies with the hand that wasn’t in her hair, found her clit, and gently stroked it in time with his thrusts. She cried out louder and in a higher pitch, and moments later, he felt her shatter around him, her body shaking, and her head falling back, mouth open in bliss. As she clenched around him, he threw himself over that same ledge, and he came with a hard shudder and a rasping groan, his face buried between her neck and shoulder. 

As they both slowly came down from their highs and their breathing returned to a more normal pace (and they were _still_ almost in unison—he thought it almost incredible), he felt the fingers she’d been pressing into his back relax, and her hand slowly trailed over his shoulder to the back of his head, where she caressed the scars and ridges that made up his scalp. At the same time, her leg released his, and he rolled slightly to the side so that his weight was no longer fully on her. 

His eyes met hers, and he gazed at her, the flicker of the lantern’s flame dancing over her familiar features. If he still could, he would have cried with his happiness in this moment.

“I love you so fuckin’ much, Sunshine.” 

She smiled. “I love you too.” He could see that her eyelids were starting to droop, so he leaned forward and kissed her gently. 

“Get some sleep. Busy day tomorrow.” 

She murmured her agreement as her eyes closed. He leaned up enough to grab the quilt and pulled it over them both before blowing out the lantern, tucking an arm around her, and closing his own eyes, falling almost immediately into deep sleep.


	14. Chapter 14

The road was mostly quiet as they approached Bunker Hill, the obelisk rising in the distance. As they walked, Erica consulted her much-hated PipBoy several times, double-checking the exact location of her Courser contact. They hadn’t spoken much on the way, and while Hancock still felt like he’d gone a few rounds with a super mutant behemoth (and funnily enough, he knew exactly how that felt for comparison), it was still refreshing to be out walking in the sunshine, a pleasant breeze blowing between the buildings, his favorite person in the world at his side.

“Oh, here we go….” Erica turned suddenly down an alley, and as Hancock followed, he spotted the Courser. The way the synth stood at attention and coldly glared at them sent a shiver down his spine—it was far too reminiscent of the Courser they had killed for the chip. Hancock couldn’t help but wonder if this Courser was aware of the role that they had played in the destruction of his… brother? What did they consider themselves to each other? He would have to ask Erica about that later. He didn’t know why, but it felt important to him, and like it might be important in the future as well.

As they approached the Courser, the sound of distant vertibirds buzzing in the distance seemed to grow louder. What was the Brotherhood of Steel up to today? Hancock wished they would just stay on that big fucking ship of theirs and mind their own goddamn business. 

“I’ve been waiting for you,” the Courser stated, reproach heavy in his cold voice. 

Erica shrugged, clearly unconcerned about the Courser’s displeasure. It made perfect sense to Hancock—after all, if everything went according to plan, the Courser would be dead within the next hour or so. 

“What’s the plan?” she asked. 

“I thought you had been briefed,” the synth said with an impatient grimace. “Our targets are inside, four synths under Railroad protection.” Hancock marvelled at the distaste in the Courser’s voice when he said the word “synth.” What exactly did this guy think he was? He was just as much a synth as those he had been sent to bring back. 

The sound of the vertibirds increased, no longer in the distance, and a shadow fell over them as one of the ‘birds passed by overhead. 

“As you can see,” the Courser continued, “the situation has escalated.”

“Wait,” Erica said, “the Brotherhood of Steel is now involved?”

“Fucking hell….” Hancock breathed.

The Courser spared him only the most cursory of glances, and Hancock wondered briefly what those in the Institute thought of his and Erica’s relationship—particularly her son. After all, they’d been watching through the crows for some time, and he and Erica had never gone to any great lengths to hide their affection for each other. 

“Yes,” the Courser responded in the same calm and cold voice. “And we have received intel that members of the Railroad are about to convene upon the area as well.” Goddammit! Must have been the motherfucking crows! “I’m deeply concerned that there has been a leak.” The Courser’s pointed look at Erica made it absolutely clear who he thought the leak was, but Erica’s face remained neutral, not giving anything away. 

Erica sighed. As she’d laid it out to Hancock, this was supposed to be a clean in-and-out operation, and clearly that wasn’t going to be the situation. And what else was new? It seemed that everything they’d attempted had turned out to be far more complicated than originally planned. Why shouldn’t this turn into a complete shitshow as well? He didn’t want to make the situation worse by saying these thought out loud, though. 

“It’ll be okay, Erica,” he said instead. “We’ll get this done.” 

She nodded and turned toward the fortification once more. Just in the short time they’d been speaking with the Courser, the entire situation seemed to have gone completely to hell. The racket from the vertibirds circling overhead quickly became deafening, and the ground shook as soldiers in power armor crashed to the ground all around them. 

“Fuuuuuuuck….” Erica cursed in a breathy, drawn-out voice. Hancock could only echo the sentiment. 

Laser fire and and bullets zinged through the air, and the two of them ran toward the fort in a crouch. As the Courser had predicted, the Railroad had indeed shown up. They had also apparently been briefed on Erica’s role in the mission as they had the common sense not to acknowledge either her or Hancock’s presence in any way that would give them away to the Brotherhood soldiers or the Coursers now materializing all around them, along with their accompanying cadre of early model synths. 

Erica covered her face as much as she could so nobody from the Brotherhood would recognize her, and the pair of them ran as fast as possible, weaving their way through the chaos toward the front gates. As they approached, it became apparent that the main entryway had been barricaded. 

“Dammit!” Erica cried. “How the hell are we supposed to get in?”

“This way!” Hancock grabbed her hand and pulled her around the perimeter of the wall. 

“Are you sure?” She had to shout to be heard over the racket of the ‘birds and the fighting.

“You think this is the first time Bunker Hill’s been under siege? There’s an emergency exit around the other side.” 

She nodded, her face strained, and followed him. 

As they came around the side of the wall, it was clear that they weren’t the only ones who had that same idea. Hancock could see the usually hidden door, but he wasn’t sure how they were going to work their way through the mess of Brotherhood, Railroad, and Institute synths, all at each others’ throats. 

When he hesitated, a bullet whizzed past his ear, and a blast from a laser weapon singed his coat. It was clear that standing still and weighing their options wasn’t going to be a great choice. He grabbed Erica’s hand and pulled her, dodging the fighters (and at one uncomfortable moment, richoceting off a set of power armor). Fortunately, the Brotherhood were so focused on their other enemies that they couldn’t be bothered to give any attention at all to a ghoul. 

Bodies were piled up at the door, Brotherhood, Railroad, and mangled synths all tangled up together. His face twisted at the horror of it, and he could see his own horror reflected in Erica’s face as she struggled to not to cry at the terrible sight. 

“Hang in there, Sunshine,” he said. “We can mourn ‘em once this is done.”

She nodded, her face pale and her jaw set. They had to pull some of the bodies away from the pile before they could access the door, and as he rolled over one of the people wearing a Railroad jacket, he recognized the young man’s face from headquarters. His heart twisted and he had to look away. 

Finally, the path was clear enough for them to access the door, and they darted through it, running toward the fort’s main building. After their previous experience with the “storm shelter” during the radstorm, Hancock had a pretty good idea where those synths were being held. 

The citizens and shopkeepers of Bunker Hill had taken cover in their makeshift homes, and the entire inner compound was filled with more fighting between the three factions. Hancock was glad they hadn’t decided to take Preston with them. He probably would have insisted on calling in the Minutemen to support the Railroad, damn the consequences. 

He and Erica ran through the fighting in a zig-zagging pattern, and it didn’t occur to him until they were at the entrance of the innermost building, which usually served as a shopping hub, that she was probably trying to lose the Courser. It was a futile effort, unfortunately; when they reached the now-deserted shop table of Old Man Stockton, the Courser was only a few yards behind them. 

The shaft that led down to the storm shelter and tunnels was wide open. It had already been breached. Erica looked to him, desperation in her eyes, and quickly swung herself down, bypassing the ladder and dropping onto the packed dirt below. 


	15. Chapter 15

The sounds of intense fighting surrounded them as their eyes adjusted to the sudden dark. Yells, screams, gunshots, and the hum of laser weapons told a quick story of the three factions battling it out for the soul of the Commonwealth. 

Lanterns and a few construction lights were scattered throughout, providing some illumination to the crumbling tunnels and reflecting off the eyes of those who had already fallen and been left behind. Weapons and armor lay near their dead owners, ripe for the picking. If there had been any kind of time, Hancock would have grabbed as much as he could possibly carry to replace the sad pipe pistols carried by so many of the Neighborhood Watch. Never one to pass up an opportunity, however, or a chance to better his community, he did snag a few of the more powerful-looking laser pistols, stuffing them into the pockets of his pants and coat. The Courser glared at him, but didn’t say a word about it. 

They quickly made their way down the tunnel they had caught a glimpse of back when they’d sheltered from the radstorm. It wound down, deep beneath the old fort, through a strange mishmash of ancient brick walls and staircases and newer, reinforced metal walkways. It was unclear to Hancock when exactly these walkways had been added. Had they been created before the war, perhaps to make it safer for tourists to explore below the fort? Or had the Railroad constructed them when they started using the fort as a safehouse for newly escaped synths? Hancock thought Erica might know, perhaps from her days as a student, touring through the old buildings in Boston that had played such a role in the early history of the United States, but now was certainly not the time or place to ask. 

Occasionally, they’d run through larger rooms, perhaps once storage spaces for cannons and artillery. In these, they had to dodge bullets and laser blasts, as additional fighting took place. Judging by the quick glances from those not in power armor or synths and presumably Railroad, their progress was being marked. Hancock couldn’t help wondering if the sole purpose of the Railroad being here was simply to distract the gen-two synths and the Brotherhood soldiers, to buy them time to reach the escaped synths so they could be freed. In that case, he was determined to make their sacrifice worth it. He nodded to one of the Railroad heavies, but before the woman could nod back, she was cut down by a blast from an armored Brotherhood Knight. 

Before the Knight could turn the laser rifle on him, Hancock swallowed and kept running. As they darted around one corner, a turret suddenly fired up. He quickly yanked Erica back and they caught their breath, waiting for the turret to realize that it was firing at nothing and wind down. 

Her eyes met his, and he could easily read the terror and worry in them. That was just too fucking close. They needed to reach the synths, but they couldn’t just blindly race ahead. 

Once the turret stopped firing, he peeked his head around the corner and fired off two blasts from his shotgun. The turret emitted a high-pitched squeal and then exploded. 

“Okay, let’s go,” he said. “But slower.” The Courser stood, silent, occasionally shooting at a Knight or a heavy. Hancock gritted his teeth. He was looking forward to doing away with this fucker—he only wished he could do it now.

Erica nodded and proceeded forward, leading the way. As they continued, men and women in Railroad jackets kept themselves between the trio and the other fighters, protecting Hancock and Erica from the Knights and synths as best they could. The movement was fairly subtle and wasn’t obvious unless you were looking for it, but Hancock still hoped that the Courser was unaware of what was happening, even as he appreciated the incredible sacrifice the Railroad was making. He hoped it was worth it—it wasn’t like the Railroad had a ton of folks to spare. 

Finally, the winding tunnels ended in a door, and Hancock, Erica, and the Courser found themselves travelling through what appeared to be part of the Boston subway system. Leaving the fighting behind, they pressed on. 

“Are we still going the right way?” Erica asked, her voice filled with anxiety.

“I ain’t sure, Sunshine,” Hancock replied. “This appears to be the only way, though.” He caught the stern glance that the Courser threw their way when he used his favorite term of endearment, but it no longer mattered. He was quite sure that the Courser only had minutes to live at this point. 

“This is the way,” the Courser said. “The fugitives are just up ahead.” 

They pushed down a concrete staircase and found themselves in a small room that had perhaps once served as some type of office or even a small cafe. The mattresses stacked in the corner and the four terrified men and women who stood there now stated clearly its current purpose: to provide a safe place to escaped synths. 

“Now is the time,” the Courser said, in his cold, calm voice. “Use their recall codes. Shut them down.” 

Erica turned to the Courser, her face pale and drawn. “Absolutely not. Go fuck yourself.” 

In an instant, her .44 was in her hand and she fired straight at the Courser’s head. It was the moment Hancock had been waiting for, and the distinctive double blast of his shotgun quickly followed. The Courser never even had a chance to draw his weapon before he fell to the ground, his head completely obliterated. 

“Well. That takes care of that,” Erica said as she reholstered the revolver with slightly shaking hands. She turned to the synths, who stood frozen, their eyes wide at the sight before them. “You’re free to go.”

One of the women spoke up. “You… you mean that?”

“I do.” She turned to Hancock. “I’m going to have to return to the Institute and deal with Shaun. Will you be able to get them back to the church?”

“Do you have to go now?” he asked, reaching out for her hand.

She gripped his fingers tightly. “The sooner, the better. I… I don’t know how he’s going to react.” She sighed. “I’ll give him the partial truth… that the Brotherhood and Railroad both showed up, that it was chaos. I just have to hope he believes me. If he doesn’t.…” She swallowed. “I just have to hope I have a chance to look for Nick’s files again before he throws me out. I knew I’d be breaking away at some point, but I’m hoping he’ll just see this as an accidental failure on my part. It’s not like he thinks very highly of me anyway. Maybe that’ll work in my favor.”

His heart twisted in his chest at her look of misery. “Oh, Sunshine…” He reached out and pulled her into his arms. She practically melted against him, and she shook with tears. He wished so desperately that there was something he could say or do to comfort her. “Why don’t you come back with me for a bit. We’ll get these guys dropped off with Des and Deacon, and you can leave in the morning.” 

She shook her head. “I want so badly to say yes to that, but I can’t. The longer I wait, the more he’s going to suspect. I’m going to leave from right here. I’m sorry, love.” She stepped back and flipped the knob on her Pipboy. She looked up for a moment, into his eyes. “I love you so much. I’ll see you soon.” And in a flash, she vanished. 

He turned to the synths, who were watching him with looks of both fear and curiosity. “All right, folks. You heard the lady. Let’s head out and get you to safety.” 


	16. Chapter 16

Hancock led the way to make sure it was safe to bring the synths out. To his surprise, everything was quiet. The fighting had stopped, and only piles of dead bodies remained as a sort of mute testimony that a battle had, in fact, taken place. He gestured to the synths to follow him, and they moved forward as a group, their eyes wide as they observed the carnage. He hoped they understood and appreciated the massive sacrifice the Railroad had paid to ensure their freedom. 

Was it worth it? He didn’t have a tally, but in this room alone there had to be at least twenty dead bodies scattered around and tangled with each other. And that wasn’t counting the robot-like gen-two synths in pieces on the floor and hanging off the railings. 

He did a quick headcount, as best he could when a few were missing their heads. Yup, eleven Railroad members, just in this room alone. Eleven Railroad to save four synths. Now multiply that by the numerous rooms they had passed through just to get to this point, plus however many were outside in the old fort proper. The math didn’t exactly work out. The only thing he could figure was that it was more about the idea of saving the synths rather than the synths themselves who had been saved. 

He sighed. It was a lot to wrap his head around, and he didn’t want to break out the Mentats right now, not when he was forced to walk past piles of the dead. 

They continued working their way through the winding tunnels, stepping carefully around and over the bodies. After a couple more rooms, he heard some sniffling behind him. He paused to look back. 

“You folks alright?” he asked in a soft voice.

One of the women spoke up, as she wiped away a tear. “So many dead. And just for us? I had no idea. Why would they go to all this trouble?”

He sighed. She had almost perfectly articulated his own thoughts from just a moment ago. He hoped he could explain.

“It’s for you, yeah, but it’s also for everyone who escaped before you, and everyone we’re gonna try to break out in the future. It ain’t usually like this. From what I understand, it’s usually small rescue parties and trips through the city at night. This… something went wrong. My wife… she’s tryin’ to smooth it over now, make sure we can keep rescuing your people. She’s… kinda like a spy.” 

“The woman who killed the Courser,” the man with the light brown hair said. “She’s your wife?”

He grinned. “Sure is. Married me in a moment of weakness, luckily for me.”

The man nodded and swallowed, clearly nervous. “Can I ask… why do you look the way you do?” 

He nodded. The synth wasn’t trying to be mean; of course he’d never seen a ghoul before. “Yeah, I don’t mind, and you should probably know, seeing as how you’ll run into more of us up here. I’m a ghoul. It’s caused by radiation.” He thought back to a previous conversation with Erica and sighed. “Along with a dose of FEV, apparently. These guys in the tin cans?” He kicked a dead Brotherhood soldier as they passed by. “They hate folks like me just as much as they hate folks like you. So, you know, if you come across anyone saying something nasty about one of us? Keep that in mind, wouldja?”

The man gazed down at the soldier Hancock kicked. “They… they hate us?” 

Hancock sighed again. “Yup. In their view, folks like you and me are ‘abominations’ that shouldn’t exist. That’s why they’re here. Each of these three groups has a different bone to pick and despises the other two. The Brotherhood hates the Institute for, as they see it, ‘abusing technology,’ and hates the Railroad for trying to protect you all, which they consider technology run amok and a threat to human existence. So they want to destroy the Institute. The Institute, where you guys come from, hates the Brotherhood, of course, since they’re actively trying to destroy them, and they hate the Railroad for, in their view, stealing their property. That’s you guys. The Railroad hates the Institute for creating sentient life—again, you guys—then treating you like slaves, and the Brotherhood hates the Railroad for letting you guys live and not killing you on sight.” He takes a deep breath. “There’s more nuance than that, of course, but that’s basically the gist of the whole fucking mess. And people like you, and me, and, well, basically the whole fucking Commonwealth, are all caught in the goddamn crossfire.”

The blonde woman gazed at him with wide eyes. “That’s a lot to take in.” 

“Tell me about it, sister.” He grinned humorlessly and lit up a cigarette. 

  
  
  
  
  


By the time they made it through the tunnels and out the hatch, the sun was setting. The residents and shopkeepers of Bunker Hill had emerged from their homes and were attempting to clean up, pulling dead bodies into piles for disposal and repairing holes in the fence and the walls of their shacks. They glared at Hancock and the four synths as they passed by before resuming their work. Clearly Bunker Hill’s residents didn’t feel that the sacrifice was worth it. 

While he wasn’t keen on heading out into the darkening streets, he didn’t have much of a choice. It was pretty clear that they couldn’t stay here. Fortunately, the church wasn’t far. They’d just have to pass through some raider- and super mutant-infested areas to get there. No problem, right? 

_ Yeah, right.  _

Lighting another cigarette, he worked his way toward the now-open front gate, avoiding eye contact with the angry-looking citizens. A familiar face, features twisted in fury, started making his way toward the small group but was quickly intercepted by Deb in her blue jumpsuit. Thank God—he didn’t have any patience for Darryl’s particular brand of racist bullshit today. 

As they walked slowly down the stairs and past the large statue of Colonel Prescott (now missing his outstretched hand and part of the brim of his hat), he was pleased to see two familiar faces.

“Good to see you, Glory. Asshole.” 

“I missed you, Mayor,” Deacon said with a grin. “It’s so good to see you, I could just about kiss that face of yours.” 

“Do it, and watch what happens.” 

“Quit with the flirting, boys.” Glory flicked away her cigarette. “This the package?”

“Yes, these fine folks are your ‘package,’” Hancock replied, turning his attention to the husky-voiced woman who reminded him so much of Fahrenheit. “Give ‘em a break, okay? They’ve been through hell.” 

“So’ve we,” Glory snapped. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’ve lost more than a few of our own ‘fine folks.’” 

“Why you sound so pissed at me? We did everything we could to deliver these guys safe....”

Glory interrupted him. “Because this never should have been such a fucking mess in the first place! Why the fuck did the Brotherhood show up? Who tipped them off, huh? I know your girl has spent time with them….”

“And then she hauled ass the first chance she got, at great personal risk,” he snarled, getting angry. “I hope you ain’t implying what it sounds like you’re implying.” 

“Whoa, whoa!” Deacon stepped between the two of them. “Glory, I know this is a total shitshow, but I guarantee that if someone tipped off the Brotherhood, it wasn’t Erica. Don’t forget that they monitor radio frequencies. They probably detected all the interference from the Institute’s teleportation around here and came to see what was up.”

Glory turned on Deacon. “We lost a lot of good people today, Deacon. People I consider friends! And I want to know why!”

Hancock rubbed a hand up his face. “Look, you guys gonna fight over it or take these guys to safety? Because I ain’t keen on standing out here in the open squabbling about it. I’m fucking tired, and I want to go home. Now, do you need my help getting these guys back or am I done here?”

Glory turned her furious brown eyes on him. “Yeah, you’re done. We got this. Get the hell outta here.” 

“Sister, you don’t have to tell me twice.” He turned and nodded to the synths. “Ladies, gentlemen… best wishes for a happy future.” He sketched a little bow and turned toward Goodneighbor. 


	17. Chapter 17

He’d barely made it back through Goodneighbor’s main gate before Erica grabbed his arm. Startled, he came inches from drawing his shotgun on her. 

“Don’t do that!” he rasped. “Ain’t you supposed to be back at the Institute? Don’t get me wrong—I’m glad to see you, especially if you’re spending the night—but I don’t want you blowing your cover, neither!”

“I did go back… but apparently Shaun—I absolutely refuse to call him ‘Father!’—wants to meet me up on the roof of CIT. Maybe it sounds crazy, but… I was hoping you would come with me.”

A shiver traced its way uncomfortably down Hancock’s spine. “You… want me to meet him? Why?”

She placed her hand on his arm and looked into his eyes. “You’re everything that’s good about this Wasteland. I know what he thinks, but maybe… I can convince him otherwise.” 

He sighed. “Sunshine, your heart is in the right place, it really is, but I’m exactly what he and his cronies hate the most. Look at me! I’m what they’re most afraid of. The only value they’d see in me is what they could learn by strapping me down and cutting me open.”

Erica shoulders sagged in defeat. “I guess… what I really want is for him to meet his stepdad. His family.”

He shuddered, but it was impossible to deny. For better or for worse, the leader of the Institute was his stepson. “Sunshine, I’ll come with you. But if things go sideways or Shaun tries to hurt me or you, you know I’m gonna defend usf.” 

Her eyes blazed. “If Shaun tried to hurt you, I’d kill him myself.” She looked shocked at herself. “I… That sounds so horrible, but… It’s true.”

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. “Let’s hope it never comes to that.” He gave her a quick kiss. “We’ll head in that direction then. Although considering that I just came from that area, it would have been nice if you’d caught me back at Bunker Hill….”

“I’m sorry, I came back as quickly as I could and got here just before you did! I didn’t have time to—” 

“I’m teasing, Sunshine.” He gave her a peck on the nose. “Let’s head out.” 

  
  
  


According to Erica’s Pipboy, it was around midnight when they finally arrived at the former Commonwealth Institute of Technology. A touch of its former grandeur remained and Hancock tried to imagine what it must have looked like in its heyday, filled with young geniuses, intent on solving all the hardest problems that plagued the world. Instead, when the bombs fell, those students hunkered down, and eventually their descendents _became_ the hardest problem currently plaguing the world. Oh, the irony. 

“Careful, Sunshine. This area is usually crawling with super mutants.” He peered into the darkness, gripping his shotgun, wary thanks to his diminished hearing. 

“It’s okay. They sent a squad of gen-twos up to clear out the mutants earlier. Wouldn’t want their precious ‘Father’ getting injured by their own creations after all.” Her voice dripped with bitterness as she spoke. He rested his hand gently against her lower back as they walked in an attempt to provide some kind of comfort. 

They picked their way through the rubble of the main rotunda. Hancock gazed up at the dome that soared above them. The only light was the glow of the Pipboy and the starlight that filtered through the dusty glass of the skylight high above them, giving the room an eerie glow that was only heightened by the scattered bodies of super mutants and synths, a few of which were still sparking. 

“You said you used to come here sometimes, Sunshine?”

She checked over the body of a super mutant for ammunition and caps. “Yup. Harvard and CIT parties were the best parties. Nobody could blow off steam like a bunch of geniuses who’d been slaving away in a lab for five days straight. They also figured out tricks for combining booze and chems to fuck you up in all kinds of new ways.” She smiled at Hancock as she stood up. “You probably would have gotten along with them just fine.” 

He grinned back. “It’s hard to imagine you as a party girl.” 

“I wasn’t, really. I never got into any of the hard stuff. But I had some friends who were and I’d tag along with them, watch the chaos, and try to meet cute genius boys.” She laughed. “I guess that part isn’t all that different from today, really.”

He raised his hairless brows. “You still on the hunt for cute genius boys, huh?” 

“I was referring to you, you big goof.” 

He laughed and shook his head. “I love you, Sunshine.” 

She smiled back at him, the starlight glinting on her glasses. “I love you too, John. Staircase heading up is down this hall.”

  
  
  
  
  


When they emerged on the roof, Hancock’s eyes were immediately drawn to the old man standing at the edge, his hands clasped behind his back, gazing out over the pinpricks of light that signified life in Boston. The moon shone down on him like a spotlight. 

The sight made Hancock’s blood run cold. It was hard to realize that this horrible, cruel man was Erica’s son. The last remnant of her life before. 

Erica cleared her throat and Shaun turned around, but Hancock got the feeling that he knew they’d been there. It’s what he himself would have done, after all. 

As they approached Shaun, Hancock couldn’t help studying the man’s face, looking for any signs of Erica. The gray eyes… those were familiar. Although even when she was angry, her eyes never looked so cold. That stubborn set of his mouth… Hancock recognized that too. The nose, though… that was all Nate. He recognized it from the Vault and his dreams. 

Shaun’s eyes, so much like his mother’s, turned to Hancock and seemed to crawl over him, unimpressed. Given the work of the synth crows, the man had to be aware of their relationship. Hancock was tempted to speak up, make some wiseass comment, but he held his tongue instead. He’d intervene if he had to, but it was crucial for the Institute to believe that Erica was still on their side. 

Finally, Shaun spoke. “I see you’ve brought a… friend.” He sighed. “Yes, I recognize you. You’ve spent a lot of time with my mother, keeping her safe. I suppose I should thank you. But I won’t.” The man’s familiar but cold eyes turned to Erica. “In all my years, I’ve never had a reason to come up here. But now… look at this.” He swept his arm out to indicate the whole of Boston. “And this,” he said, nodding at Hancock. Hancock’s teeth ground together in an effort to keep quiet. “It all confirms what I’ve known. The Commonwealth is dead. There’s no hope up here.” 

_I’m alive and I’m standing right here, you fucking asshole!_ Hancock wished he could grab the man by the lapels of his pristine lab coat and shout it into his face while vigorously shaking him. Instead, he pressed his wrecked lips together and narrowed his eyes. 

“I’ve told you before, Mother,” Shaun continued. It was strange to hear the word emerge from the man’s mouth when he appeared so much older than Erica. “The only real hope lies below.”

Hancock’s eyes turned to Erica, trying to read her reaction to this statement. Her face remained quite neutral, and when she spoke, her voice was quiet. “Then why would you even bother coming up here? Your mind was made up long ago. Is there anything I could say or do that would change your opinion?” 

Shaun cocked his head to one side before speaking. “I’m just trying to put everything in perspective, I suppose. It’s a nice reminder that I was spared a life growing up out here in this wasteland.”

 _Pompous ass!_ Hancock screamed internally. What the fuck would this guy even know about perspective? He only has one, after all. 

Shaun hadn’t stopped speaking though. “From your point of view, it probably seems like I was kidnapped. But that’s not the case at all. The Institute rescued me. In a way, they rescued both of us.” 

_You mean_ you _rescued her. Except you didn’t. You set her free and then watched to see if she would live or die. That ain’t a fucking rescue, pal._

It seemed Erica felt similarly, and mother and son seemed to mirror each other, both eyes glinting, both mouths stubbornly set. “How can you even say that? I was refrozen!”

“You had to be, as a failsafe. I was obviously the perfect candidate. No radiation had ever touched my DNA.” His eyes crawled over Hancock once again. “But there are no guarantees, of course. If something had happened to me, a failsafe was needed, a—”

“A _backup_ ,” Erica snarled between gritted teeth. 

“Yes. Another source of DNA was needed, preferably related to the primary subject. So it made sense to keep you alive and safe. It still amazes me that when I had you released, you managed to survive out here. You’re a lot tougher than anyone thought. Especially in the beginning, I thought for sure we would lose you. How… fortunate… for you—for all of us, of course—that you wound up on this… _thing’s_... doorstep….”

Oh, how he wanted to tell this asshole to fuck off so badly! If he was younger, maybe he would have done it, but he was clearly learning a bit more prudence these days. 

Shaun continued. “It’s remarkable really. You’ve thrived out here. You found me, you followed the trail, and you infiltrated the Institute. I never would have believed it of you.”

Erica glared at him with a distaste Hancock wouldn’t have found plausible if he wasn’t seeing it with his own eyes. This was still her son after all. Could she cast him aside after all that he’d done? 

“Why did you even let me out in the first place?” she asked. Hancock had to suppress a smile. If that asshole son of hers had any idea of who she was, he’d be running right now with his tail between his legs at the tone of her voice. 

Shaun rolled his eyes. “We’ve discussed this, haven’t we? I’m a scientist at heart. It was an experiment. Could you, a prewar housewife with a pretty degree from a fancy university and no real understanding of true hardship, survive out here in this chaos? Or would you be corrupted? Like… _this_. What you consider to be your… _husband_.” Hancock would have given anything to wipe that disgusted look off the bastard’s face with the business end of his shotgun. “But despite some questionable choices along the way, you have thrived. Beyond anyone’s expectations. Beyond my own, for sure. And even now, you continue to thrive. Except… in this task. Which you failed.” His expression grew stern. 

_What was he going to do, lecture her?_ Hancock realized the gravity of this moment. If Erica was unable to play her cards right, it would mean the end of her Institute access. It would mean the end of Nick. 

Shaun stared at Erica, his expression inscrutable. “Everything I’ve done, my entire life’s work, is for the future of the Commonwealth. And now I can only hope that future isn’t in jeopardy after the events at Bunker Hill. Would you care to explain what happened?”

“We were ambushed!” Erica said. Hancock watched her closely. Could she pull this off? Lying didn’t come easily to her. “We met up with the Courser as planned, but then the Railroad and Brotherhood showed up, like they were waiting for us!” 

“I find that hard to believe!” Shaun snapped. Hancock’s lips tightened even further, until they were nearly splitting. He was grateful for the moment that his scarring made his expressions difficult for humans to read; otherwise, he’d be the one giving it all away. “All the intelligence leading up to this indicated that we’d taken them by surprise!” Shaun took a deep breath and looked back out over the city, never quiet, even at this time of night. Gunshots popped in the distance, and a burst of light bloomed miles away, probably a car exploding. “Bunker Hill was to cement your role here in the Institute. Now it will only raise suspicions. How will I explain this to the Board of Directors, Mother?” 

Erica said nothing, and Hancock followed her lead. 

Finally Shaun looked back at them both again. “I’ll refrain from speaking of this at all for the time being,” he said. “Mistakes were clearly made. Perhaps this mission was above your abilities.”

 _You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you? You pompous prick. She’s outplayed you every step of the game._ In fact, upon reflection, Hancock recognized that this was a proud moment for Erica. For them both. These assholes considered themselves to be the best brains in the Commonwealth—in the world, most likely. Yet they were being outplayed by… what were the words he had used? Ah yes. A prewar housewife. Spoken with such disdain. This fool had no clue what Erica was capable of. And Hancock hoped he’d be there to see the look on his face when the fucker found out. 

“It’s time for us to discuss your future with the Institute. I would prefer to do so away from… prying ears.” Shaun glanced at Hancock once again. Clearly the two of them would never have any kind of father-son relationship, and Hancock was perfectly fine with that arrangement. I’ll be waiting for you in the boardroom.” 

In a flash of blue light, Shaun was gone. Clearly he had access to the same teleportation technology that Erica had fought so hard to acquire. 

Erica turned to Hancock with a heavy sigh, and he held his arms open for her. She stepped into his embrace and leaned against him, her arms around his neck. “I have to go, love,” she said, her voice heavy with regret. 

“I know,” he murmured in a soft rasp. “But look at what you managed to do! You saved the synths and you’re still in the Institute’s good graces.” He lightly stroked her hair as he held her. 

She nodded. “For now. I’m probably running out of time, though. I have to get those files or Nick will be screwed.” 

“You can do it. I know you can.” 

She smiled, sadly. “I wish I had the confidence in me that you do.” 

“Are you kidding, Sunshine? At this point, I’m pretty sure you can do anything!” He kissed her deeply before releasing her. “You go ahead. I’ll stay here until the sun rises then head home. I’ll see you soon, yeah?” 

She nodded. “I love you, John. So much.”

“I love you too, Sunshine. Never doubt it.” 

“I don’t.” She turned a knob on her Pipboy, the blue light flashed, and once again she was gone.


	18. Chapter 18

He slept most of the next day. 

Fortunately, the slog back to Goodneighbor had been uneventful. He’d waited until the sun was (mostly) up, then trudged back through quiet streets. Dawn was usually the best time to travel. Most of the troublemakers, often including him, had crashed just an hour or two before and were still sleeping off the night before. And based on the gunshots and explosions that had rocked the city, it had been a rather busy night. 

In the early afternoon, he finally got up and headed down to the Rail. He was a touch antsy and not sure what to do with himself. Meeting Shaun, seeing first hand how cold the man was, observing his lack of empathy for his own mother, had rocked him to his core. No wonder Erica had come back from the Institute such a mess. He imagined for a moment how he would have felt if Fahrenheit had turned out that way… 

After all, from a bird’s eye view, their situations weren’t that different. He had vanished, and she had been left to be raised by someone else. Fahr’s mother—Maggie—hadn’t been a psychopathic group of scientists, but the best that could be said for her parenting style was that the neglect was mostly benign. Fahr had been left to her own devices to try to find her place in the world. 

By the time she had shown up at the gates of Goodneighbor, she was tough, hard, cynical. But she had still come to find him, the only family she had. And underneath that hard exterior had been a sad teenager mourning her mother and the only home she had known. She had essentially raised herself, and she had turned out alright—or at least no worse off than anyone else out here in this wasteland where death was around every corner, you never knew if the ones you loved would be there the next day, and you picked your way through old skeletons while scavenging for supplies. 

He continued to ruminate on these thoughts even as he ordered a whiskey from Charlie and leaned against the wall, slowly swirling the dark liquor in the glass while he gazed over the patrons of his bar. He noted MacCready, who he was pleased to see was up and about and looking much better, drinking a beer and hanging on to every word of that former Brotherhood scribe… Haylen, that was her name. Preston was seated at the table too, along with a couple of his Minutemen, and the small group appeared to be having a grand time, as bursts of laughter rose periodically. 

Hancock didn’t know much about Preston’s upbringing, but he did happen to know quite a bit about MacCready’s. Like Fahrenheit, the young sniper had essentially raised himself. Unlike Fahr, however, he had managed to fall in with a group of murderous sociopaths. But he’d left, at great risk to himself. That fundamental part of who he was, the good person beneath the much harder exterior, that had never changed, despite the crowd he’d accidentally wound up in. 

And what of Hancock himself? He’d been raised well, again by wasteland standards. He’d had a fairly stable family, lived in a thriving community, hadn’t really wanted for anything—and he’d become a junkie who fought and scrapped in the streets while his ‘respectable’ brother had risen up and become a member of Diamond City’s elite class, eventually running the whole joint. 

But still. While Hancock continued to enjoy his Jet and his Mentats, he himself was now a respected Mayor, liked by many, now with a wife he loved more than he could possibly put into words. He almost jumped with the realization that Erica fit into these musings as well. Life had thrown her one horrible curveball after the other, and despite it all, she remained determined, optimistic, and kind. 

Each one of them, Erica, MacCready, Fahrenheit, and even himself, remained mostly decent people despite strange upbringings, bad choices, and cruel twists of fate. What caused one person to remain fundamentally good while others turned into raiders… or Shaun, who led the Institute, created synths, gave them free will, then turned them into slaves—and experimented on his own mother with no regard whatsoever for her safety or sanity? 

It was a lot to ponder, especially since he hadn’t popped a Mentat before his brain had taken him down this strange tangent. 

“Hey Hancock!” MacCready’s sharp eye had finally been drawn away from Haylen and spotted him holding the wall up. “Come on over!” 

Hancock grinned and made his way through the crowd to join these fine people who he was glad to call friends. 

  
  
  
  
  


By the time he headed back out into the streets, he was cheerfully drunk. They’d had round after round, each one toasting anything they could find that had gone right over the past several months. His and Erica’s marriage had been resoundly toasted multiple times (and how he wished she could have been there for it so he could have given her a kiss each time!). MacCready’s recovery and his new relationship with Haylen had been toasted as well (and the kid, red in the face, had given the former scribe a good smooch, much to everyone’s approval). Preston remained quiet about his personal life, but they had toasted the rebuilding of the Minutemen, a feat nobody had thought was possible (except for Preston, of course). Eventually, Fahrenheit and Magnolia had wandered over, and they’d toasted the two of them as well (even though they’d been an item for a year or more now). 

It was a nice way to spend an evening, and he hoped the whiskey would help him sleep. When he returned to his quarters, he had a good stretch, tossed his hat on his desk, and shrugged his coat off before hanging it over his chair. 

When he turned around and spotted Erica in his bed wearing nothing but a grin, he jumped about a mile before recovering and covering the length of the room in two long strides to get to her. 

“Sunshine! I wasn’t expecting you back!” It was probably the fastest he’d ever shucked his pants and shirt in his life, and a moment later, he held her tightly in his arms, stroking her soft skin and hair. 

“Hang on,” she said, her smile widening and her eyes dancing. “I have to show you something!” 

He released her, and she crawled to the foot of the bed and leaned over to rummage around in the pile of her clothing. He admired the view of her bottom from his vantage point. “I don’t know if that’s what you were planning on showing me, but I sure ain’t complaining,” he said with a smirk. 

She turned around and glanced back at him, still smiling. “Very funny. Hang on… it’s in here somewhere…. Ah!” She clambered back up the bed to him and held out a holotape. “Guess what’s on here?” 

“The lost recordings of Nat King Cole?”

“You’re feeling particularly feisty tonight, aren’t you? John, it’s the files!”

He sat up suddenly, shocked. “Wait… you mean Nick’s files?” 

“Yes! They were in Advanced Systems. But….” 

“But? But what? Don’t leave me hangin’ here, Sunshine!” 

Her face became suddenly serious, and his brow furrowed in concern. “There’s only one reason why I was suddenly able to rummage around in Advanced Systems without Dr. Li jumping down my throat.”

“What, did you off her or something?” 

“No… nothing like that.” She sighed. “Basically I’m in line to take over the Institute. Shaun is dying.”

He had no idea how to respond to that. “Sunshine… what are you talking about?” 

“When I got back, there was a big meeting between all the division heads and, well, I was included in it. Turns out even in the goddamn apocalypse I can’t avoid fucking meetings.” She rolled her eyes. “There’s another big task he needs me to do and it’s going to alienate the Brotherhood of Steel once and for all… although after that bullshit task Maxson gave me, I’m fine with that. But before that… Shaun has cancer. And he doesn’t have much longer. So he named me as next in charge.” 

His head reeled. “And what—you accepted?”

“Saying no wasn’t exactly an option. I tried to be fairly diplomatic about it, but his mind was made up.” She frowned and put her hand over his. “You aren’t actually worried that I’m planning to follow through with that, are you?”

“I— I’m sorry, Sunshine, I just… I don’t know what to expect with any of this anymore.”

She sighed. “I’ll play along with them. For now. Trust me when I tell you that the division heads aren’t pleased either. I’m sure one of them expected to be named, and here I come, essentially out of nowhere, and get in the way of their lifelong ambitions. If I were in their shoes, I’d be pissed too. The good news is that for the time being, I’m practically invincible in the Institute. I say jump, and they have to say how high, whether they like it or not. It meant I could search the files in Advanced Systems, and Dr. Li couldn’t say shit about it. And the result is Nick’s files.” 

He took the precious holotape from her and turned it over in his hands, studying it. There was no label, nothing to indicate the incredibly valuable content stored within it. “We’ll get this to Dr. Amari’s first thing in the morning. I hope like hell she can reboot him and restore his memory. It would be a shame for him to have to start over from scratch.” 

“I hope so, too. Nick’s a good guy. I still feel so horrible about what happened.” 

He set the holotape aside on the nightstand and pulled her into his arms. “Ain’t your fault, Sunshine. I hope you know that.” 

“None of this wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t set it all in motion, so yeah. It is my fault. And don’t argue with me!” she added as he opened his mouth to do precisely that. 

“Sunshine…”

She shook her head. “Nope, don’t even try. I’m going to stick around in the morning long enough to see what happens with Nick, then it’s off to Mass Fusion to find a ‘beryllium agitator,’ whatever the fuck that is.” 

“Can I come with you?” 

She pondered this for a moment. “Yeah. I think for this… yes. That would be good. But we’ll have to follow Dr. Fillmore’s lead, So be prepared for that.”

“Of course, Sunshine. I’ll play along.” 

“Thank you.” She leaned over him and kissed him deeply. “Shall we get some sleep?”

He grinned. “Not just yet.” 


	19. Chapter 19

Hancock’s eyes opened in the dark, and he lay there quietly for a moment, unsure why he was awake. A soft sniffing noise finally made its way to his undamaged ear, and he realized that Erica was crying. 

He rolled over to face her. “Sunshine?” he murmured, his raspy voice just barely above a whisper. 

The sniffing stopped. “What?” Her voice, though quiet, sounded harsh, choked with tears. 

He reached out and lightly caressed her face. Sure enough, his fingers came back wet. 

“What’s going on? Why you crying?”

“I… I don’t know….” She rolled toward him and rested her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close as her body trembled. 

“There’s something going on,” he said. “Please. Talk to me.” 

“I… I’ll try, but.…” Her fingers traced lightly over the skin of his chest, settling into the grooves and following the lines of the ridges. “It’s… Shaun.” 

He unintentionally tensed up at the sound of that name. 

“See?” she said, raising her head a bit. “That’s why I didn’t want to say anything!” 

“I’m sorry, Sunshine. I didn’t mean…” He sighed, feeling betrayed by his body’s automatic reaction. “I know he’s your son—and technically my stepson—but to me, he’s mostly the psychopath who’s been wreaking havoc across my home and has treated you like an expendable fucking pawn.” 

“I know. And he is those things, but…” She rested her head on him again. “He’s also my baby. I gave birth to him, and I nursed him, and I only ever wanted good things for him… And now he’s an evil old man who also happens to be dying of cancer, and I just… It’s so hard to untangle all of that. I love Shaun, the baby,  _ my _ baby. I hate Shaun, the old man. And it’s so confusing. I don’t want my baby to die. I  _ do _ want this horrible old man to be gone forever. Both of those thoughts are true at the same time, and it’s just making this big mess in my head.”

He sighed and lightly stroked the soft, smooth skin of her back. “I feel ya, Sunshine. I do.” He kissed her forehead. “I also ain’t got any kind of advice for you. I can’t imagine being in your shoes right now.”

“I’ve been trying to convince myself that the version of Shaun that’s my baby is already dead. That he died in the vault, the instant we were frozen. That’s what I should be mourning. But then I think of my frightened baby being kidnapped by Kellogg, pulled away from his dead father and his frozen mother and forced into an alien world… and I wonder… How long do you think it took before he completely forgot me?” Her voice hitched and trailed off, and her body shook with sobs. 

He had no answer. He wanted to tell her that her son had never forgotten the love of his mother, but then how did you reconcile that with how he had treated her from the moment she had been unfrozen? You didn’t play games like that with someone you loved, with someone who you knew loved you. He suspected that as Shaun had grown up, he had grown to love no one but himself. He had no partner, no children. Just his subordinates and the army of synths he had created. And you didn’t turn those you loved into slaves. 

“I don’t know, Sunshine.” It was the best he could do, and of course it wasn’t anywhere near good enough. He held her tight as loud sobs poured out of her. It was good that she was letting it out; she needed to let it out. If her grief, misery, and horror stayed inside her, they would poison her. If all he could do was be there for her and hold her, well, then that’s what he would do. 

But she wasn’t done working it all out. 

“I can’t stop thinking about him, growing up in that cold, sterile environment. What they must have told him, about the world outside, about the world before the war, about his mother and father… At what point did he lose the ability to empathize with anyone? Did he never have that ability and we just didn’t know it? Would he have turned into a sociopath anyway, even without the war?” 

Her thoughts seemed to mirror the ones that he’d had down in the Rail earlier. 

“It might sound crazy, Sunshine, but I was thinking the same thing earlier,” he said.

“You were?” 

“Yeah. I was thinking about how different Shaun and Fahrenheit were, even though they both had shitty upbringings. Fahr’s shitty upbringing is on me. I’m the asshole that deserted her mom, and her mom wasn’t exactly a devoted parent. It’s hard to do that when you spend most of your time getting high. Shaun didn’t have the benefit of growing up with parents who loved him, but he still probably had the run of the place and adults who cared about his development, at least somewhat. But Fahr has a good heart. She looks mean and tough—and don’t get me wrong, she is—but she loves deeply and gets hurt for it. Shaun… he don’t love nobody but himself.”

Another sob drags out of her body. “Yes, that’s exactly it. And I just don’t understand how that happens. I mean, Nate wasn’t exactly soft and tender, but he was never cruel. I can’t think of anyone in either of our families who was like this.” 

“I don’t think it’s a matter of genetics, Sunshine.” 

“But that doesn’t answer the ultimate question, does it? Why did he turn out like this?”

He sighed. “We’re never gonna know. And you might just have to accept that.” 

She lifted her head again to look at him. In the dim light of the low lantern, he could see that her eyes were swollen from crying, as were her nose and mouth. She’d never been a “pretty crier,” but it didn’t matter. To him, she was always beautiful. 

“I don’t know if I can, John.” 

“Oh, Sunshine,” he pulled her down to him slightly so he could kiss her. He could taste the salt of her tears on her lips. “It ain’t gonna be easy. And some days are gonna be harder than others, but if you don’t try, you’re gonna make yourself crazy. In the end, it’s the same. And sometimes two things are true at the same time even when they seem to be opposites. You love Shaun, but you hate him, too. I love the Commonwealth. It’s my home. It’s where everyone I know and love lives. But it’s hard and cruel and takes the people I love away from me. So I hate it. You know? I know it ain’t the same or even a fair comparison really.”

She nodded. “I know. And I appreciate what you’re saying, I do. I just don’t know how I’m going to be comfortable with both those thoughts in my head.” 

“Comfortable?” He chuckled a bit. “Sunshine, I love you more than anything, but you ain’t no member of the Unstoppables. You’re never gonna feel comfortable with both those thoughts. You just have to be okay with the discomfort and not let it control your life. That’s all I’m saying.” 

She gazed up at him. “Maybe someday, but… not now.” 

“No, of course not. We gotta deal with all this mess first. I wish I could make it easier for you, but that’s something you’ll have to do on your own. But I’ll be here to hold you and love you while you work through it, you know? If you gotta cry, I’ll hold you while you do that. I can’t offer you much as your husband, but at least I can offer that.” 

Her fingers lightly caressed his cheek. “I can’t imagine how I would have dealt with any of this without you. I’d be dead now. Either from everything that goes bump out there or from my own hand.”

He couldn’t help it; he shuddered at that statement. “I think you would have managed, one way or the other. You’re a survivor, Sunshine. But I’m glad I’m here with you. You’re the best goddamn thing to ever happen to me, you know?”

“You’re about the only good thing to ever happen to me,” she said with a sigh. “Thank you for listening to me. I know I’m a mess.” 

“It’s okay. If anyone’s ever earned the right to be a mess sometimes, it’s you. We’ll get through this. I don’t got all the answers, but I at least know that. Let’s get some more sleep. Don’t want to be stumbling around in a sleepy haze if I’m gonna be surrounded by Brotherhood assholes.” 

She smiled and laid her head back down on his head, and his fingers trailed through her hair. Soon, her breathing evened out and it was clear that she was asleep again. It was a long time, though, before he was able to doze off again. 


	20. Chapter 20

In the morning, he found himself eager to get up and dressed, fairly unusual given that he had a naked Erica in his arms. But they had Nick’s data! He could hardly stand to wait another moment, knowing that they were (hopefully) so close to having his old friend back again. 

Once the sun was high enough that he felt confident they wouldn’t be pulling Dr. Amari from her bed, he started tapping Erica’s shoulder and murmuring her name. Her eyes eventually opened and she blinked at him blearily. They were still a touch swollen from last night’s crying session.

“What?” Her voice was raspy with sleep, almost sounding like his. He’d woken her up before with kisses and caresses, but never with taps and whispers. She looked a little bit irritated. 

“It’s time to get up. Let’s get Nick’s data over to Amari’s!”

“Oh…” She stretched and yawned. “Okay, okay. Hang on.” 

As she leaned forward to get her pack and he got a nice view of her lean back and ass, he contemplated procrastinating for a moment, but no. Nick had gotten him out of all kinds of scrapes in the past, especially when he was a troublemaking kid, and he owed it to the guy to get him back up and running again as soon as was humanly (ghoul-y?) possible. 

He swung his legs to the side of the bed and fished around for his pants and his frilled shirt. Since their next stop after Amari’s would be Mass Fusion to go deal with whatever it was the Institute had their panties in a wad about—and presumably to wrestle it away from the Brotherhood of Steel—it was particularly important to him to wear his full mayoral get-up. He wanted those fuckers to know exactly who they were dealing with and whose shotgun was the cause of their death. 

Hopefully the Institute would fear him as well and recognize that red coat and hat when it eventually came time to do away with them. He looked forward to the moment when Erica no longer had to make nice with that group of psychopaths, but if they could be used to deal mass destruction to the Brotherhood in the meantime, so be it. 

He slid his feet into his boots and turned to see if Erica was ready yet. To his surprise, she was still half naked, wearing only her pants and a look of anxiety.

“Sunshine? What’s up?” He sat back down on the bed and reached for her. She leaned against him, and his hands found her hair, gently stroking it to soothe her. “What’s going on?”

“What if it doesn’t work? What if he loses all of his memories of his time since he left the Institute? If he forgets about you and me and being a detective and… and everything.”

He sighed. “I ain’t gonna lie. It’s a possibility. We’re talking about a hard reset here. But Dr. Amari’s pretty sharp. My caps are on her being able to isolate his memories and restore them. But… and I don’t think this will be the case… but even if she can’t and he does lose his accrued memories, he’ll still be Nick, you know? He’ll still be the same guy. It’s better than Kellogg running around, and it’s gotta be better than just lying in Amari’s office unplugged.” 

“But we don’t know that,” she insisted. “He’d have to go through the whole waking up in the Commonwealth thing again. And as someone who’s done it myself, it’s not an experience I would care to repeat.” She wiped her arm across her eyes. 

He took a deep breath. “Yeah, I hear you. Tell you what. We’ll reboot him, see what we get. But once we do, it’s up to him. If we can’t restore him with his memories, we’ll explain the situation and give him the choice as to whether he wants to be shut down or free to live his life? Okay? Everyone deserves to make their own decisions about that kind of thing.”

She nodded slowly, considering his words. “You’re right. That’s fair. Okay.” She smiled at him, a bit wanly. “Thank you.” 

“For what? I ain’t done nothing. Now hurry up and get your shirt on before this winds up taking a hell of a lot longer than it should.” 

Her smile widened. “What if I want it to take a little longer?”

He growled, but a grin spread across his face. “Guess another hour or so won’t make a difference in the long run…” He pulled her close to him and kissed her deeply, his rough hand finding a soft breast as they both fell back onto the mattress.

  
  
  
  


Despite his earlier intentions, it was at least another hour before they were finally dressed and heading down the stairs to Dr. Amari’s office. Oh well. At least it was time well spent. He held Erica’s hand tightly in his own, hoping to offer her some reassurance. It was clear from the way she was practically vibrating that despite their earlier conversation (and the lovemaking that followed), she was still nervous about the whole thing. Understandably so. He was nervous too, even if he did a somewhat better job of hiding it. 

At the sound of the door opening, Elena Amari’s head poked up from her monitor. “Mayor! And Erica!” she said. “I didn’t expect either of you this morning. Does this mean you have some good news?”

Erica smiled and pulled the holotape out of her jacket pocket. “It does. I found the files.” She handed the precious holotape over to Elena, who took it and looked at it in wonder for only a few moments before plugging it into the slot on her computer station. 

“Hey, listen, Elena,” Hancock said, “there’s a few things we wanted to talk about before you boot ol’ Nicky back up.” 

Elena glanced briefly at the lines of code now filling her monitor’s screen then returned her attention to him. “Certainly, John. Tell me what you need.” 

Erica spoke up. “I’m concerned about rebooting him with this information, that he won’t retain his memories.” 

“Ah,” Elena said, smiling. “I have also considered this possibility. While he’s been down here, I’ve been tinkering around quite a bit, and I believe I have already isolated those memories. In fact, they are also stored on a holotape.” She reached for a second holotape that was already close at hand, clearly labeled “Valentine Memories.” The doctor didn’t miss a trick, it seemed. And it also seemed like she was ready for them to appear any minute. Her confidence in Erica’s ability to find the files and her awareness of how important all of these details were impressed Hancock, even more so than how he usually felt around her. 

“This is incredible, Elena,” he said. 

The doctor smiled and inclined her head once in a gracious nod. “I’m hoping more than anything that we can restore Mr. Valentine to exactly how he was the moment before this Kellogg seized control of his brain.” Her smile quickly faded, and her eyes grew sad. “I consider that error in my judgment to be one of my greatest failures, and I regret deeply the tragedies that have occurred because of my lapse.” 

“Ain’t your fault, Elena,” Hancock said. “Don’t you dare go blaming yourself. None of this could have been predicted. This wasn’t something anyone had ever tried before, and we all knew there was a chance things could go wrong—including Nick. We’ve all done everything we could to right the situation. You’re a brilliant doctor, and I don’t want to hear another word about failure, you feel me?”

Elena nodded curtly. Hancock knew full well that she would continue to blame herself in the exact same way that he blamed himself and he knew Erica blamed herself. It was just the way people were wired, to kick their own asses over every little mistake, knowing that no one else would ever be as hard on them as they were on themselves. 

The code from the files came to a stop on the monitor, catching Elena’s eye. She immediately turned to the monitor again, all business. “It looks like this is ready to be uploaded. I’m going to try to install the memories first, though, and see if I can integrate them directly into this code.” 

“How long do you think that will take?” Erica asked. 

“Not long,” Elena said as she pulled the Institute’s holotape out of the deck and replaced it with her own. “Maybe five or ten minutes.” 

“Really?” Hancock’s hairless brows raised in surprise. He had expected to have to make the trip to Mass Fusion, not knowing what the final result would be until they got back. It seemed like instead they would have their answer before they even left. He took Erica’s hand again and squeezed it. She looked at him, her face pale and tense, before leaning her head against his shoulder. 

Elena hummed as she worked, tapping her keyboard rapidly. Letters, numbers, and symbols flew by on the screen, nothing that made any sense to him, but she certainly seemed to know exactly what it all meant. Finally, she sat up and stretched. 

“Got it! It’s fully integrated, and I believe it will hold.” 

“What would we do without you, Elena?” Hancock said, his voice filled with wonder. 

“All those letters and stuff,” Erica said, “that’s all Nick’s memories? Would my memories look like that too?”

“No,” Elena said. “Your memories are organic. They are bursts of electrical activity and chemicals, and I wouldn’t be able to see them like this on the monitor. I can track them in different ways though. That’s how the memory loungers work, and how I can transfer synth memories. Gen-three synth memories are also organic. That’s one of the primary reasons why the Railroad and I first understood that they were essentially human.” 

“But wouldn’t you argue that Nick is essentially human too?” 

Hancock grinned at the sharp question from Erica. 

Elena nodded. “I agree with you, Erica. I think humanity is so much more than whether your memories are written in code or chemicals. That was only a starting point for us. Mr. Valentine has his own free will, and from my conversations with him, I know perfectly well that his memories, thoughts, and emotions are just as real as mine.” She glanced at her screen again. “Speaking of which, I think it’s time to wire him up and begin this data transfer.” 

She stood up and headed for the corner, where Nick’s still and silent form lay on a gurney. Hancock moved to help her, and together they wheeled him over until he was next to Elena’s computer equipment. She pulled a panel off the back of one of the machines, removed a panel from Nick’s head, and began connecting wires between the two. After a few minutes, she returned to the front of her machine. She brought up a fresh screen, scanned through the data, and then typed a command. The screen went blank. 

There was a flash of pain in Hancock’s head, and then nearly as fast as it appeared, it was gone.

“I’ve just performed a complete data wipe on Mr. Valentine. Everything, including the files corrupted with Kellogg, is gone. No matter what happens now, Kellogg is gone for good.” 

“Thank God,” Erica whispered. Hancock squeezed her shoulder as if to echo the sentiment. It seemed almost anti-climatic. All of the trouble he had caused, and now he was gone. But of course Elena wouldn’t have been willing to do the wipe without knowing there was a way to restore Nick. It was just too risky. 

“Elena, you’re a miracle,” he said, his voice hoarse. 

She shook her head. “It still never should have happened.” Her fingers flew over the keyboard again, and the blank screen once more filled with code. She typed another command, and the lines of code started scrolling up the screen. 

“There it is,” she said. “The upload is happening.” 

“How long will we need to wait now?” Erica said.

“How in the hell can a synth made of metal and wires have such a damn headache?” a sardonic voice replied.


	21. Chapter 21

Hancock jumped in surprise before running around in front of Nick and squatting down in front of him. It couldn’t be! Could it? It seemed too good to be true! 

“Nicky? That you?” He looked into Valentine’s glowing yellow eyes. 

“Who the hell else would it be?” the synth growled. “You about to ask me on a date or something, John?”

“Mr. Valentine,” Amari said, her voice trembling with emotion, “other than the headache, how do you feel right now?”

He shrugged. “Now that you mention it, a bit off kilter. I keep thinking I’ve forgotten something and then suddenly I remember it. It’s the strangest damn thing. Say, you guys got the information you need right? It’s like there’s a weird skip there. I remember walking through those memories with Erica and then suddenly I’m right here, in a different part of the room, with an icepick apparently shoved in my forehead.” 

Erica joined Hancock in front of Nick. “I did get what I needed, and I’m so sorry about what happened.” 

“What  _ did _ happen?” Valentine asked, confusion written all over his synthetic face.

Dr. Amari came around. “It looks like the upload is complete. Mr. Valentine, do you still feel like you are missing any memories?” 

His eyes shifted back and forth as he considered the question. “I don’t think so,” he said, slowly. “Other than the gap I just mentioned. What upload? Amari, what’s happening here?”

Elena hung her head. “I… I made a mistake, Mr. Valentine. When I wired in the chip from Kellogg, I failed to consider the potential energy transfer that would occur, and the chip overheated and fused to some of your wiring. Kellogg has been in charge of your brain for… a couple months now.”

The synth’s eyes widened until Hancock was sure the little circular LEDs would fall out of their sockets and dangle by their wires. “Jesus Christ, Amari! What… what did he do?”

“He mostly hid,” Hancock said, quickly, wanting to reassure the synth. “We think he was trying to draw us out. He did find a way to get in touch with some gunners and MacCready got pretty badly injured—he’s fine now, don’t worry—and then he tried to fuck us over in the Glowing Sea. I think he might have killed me for a minute there… but he wasn’t able to do too much damage.”

Valentine still didn’t look any less horrified. “Is… is he still in there?”

“No,” Elena said. “Erica was able to retrieve your original operating files from the Institute, and once we had those, I was able to purge the last several weeks from your memory code, splice your remaining memory code back into the operating files, and reupload everything.”

Nick’s yellow eyes flickered from Erica to Amari to Hancock. “You all went through that much trouble for this old synth?”

“Nicky,” Hancock said in a quiet rasp. “You’re one of my oldest friends. Of course I did.” 

“Wait… hang on…” Valentine was still trying to catch up. “Did you say Erica retrieved the files from the Institute? You got in? Damn, I  _ have _ missed a lot.”

Erica smiled. “You have. And yes.” She held up her Pipboy. “For the time being, I have the ability to go back and forth as I please.”

The synth’s eyes narrowed a bit. “But your son, Erica. Did you find your son?”

Hancock’s eyes cut over to Erica, worried. Was this going to set off another round of anger and misery? 

But Erica just looked sad and resigned. “I did find him, Nick. But he’s not the ten-year-old we saw in those memories. He’s… old. And… he’s the leader.” 

Valentine looked confused. “The leader? The leader of what?”

She sighed. “The Institute, Nick. He leads the Institute.” 

The synth let out a long, low whistle. “Holy shit. I’m so damn sorry, Erica. These processors never even considered that as a possibility.” 

“Neither did any of the rest of us, Nick,” said Hancock. “Don’t beat yourself up.” 

“What does this mean now, though?” Valentine asked. “Are you still working with the Railroad? Or….” 

Hancock understood where Valentine was going with that particular line of questioning. Where exactly did Erica’s loyalties lie? Had the synth just woken up to a world in which the Institute was now going to run things? 

Erica’s face darkened and her gray eyes turned flinty. “Nick, my son is an egomaniacal sociopath. He’s been experimenting on me since I was unfrozen and the entire Commonwealth for decades. He created the gen-three synths and gave them free will but treats them like slaves. He kidnaps people, turns them into super mutants, and then releases them to wreak havoc. Yes, I’m still working with the Railroad. But right now I’m… well, I’m a bit of a double agent. I never dreamed that espionage would be one of my skills, but here we are.” 

“Speaking of espionage,” Hancock murmured. She nodded, and he continued. “Nicky, when we get back I’m buying you a drink, but in the meantime, Sunshine and I have a task we gotta do today.”

“Oh really,” Valentine said, his yellow eyes twinkling. “Do tell.” 

“I can’t right now,” Erica said, “but I promise to tell you all about it and finish catching you up when we get back. Deal?”

“You got it, doll,” the synth replied. “And hey—for everything you did? To get me back to my usual droll self? Thank you. That’s so much more than I would ever expect anyone to do for me.”

“Oh, Nick,” Erica said, her voice sounding sad. “Anytime. You’ve helped so much, and it killed me that this was the result.” 

“Well, you know what they say,” Valentine replied with good humor. “No good deed goes unpunished. And never was that truer than in the Commonwealth. Don’t suppose I could join you on this jaunt of yours? Get the old servos up and running again?”

“Not a chance, Mr. Valentine,” said Dr. Amari. “I want to run some tests, make sure everything is working as it should.” 

“And you’re sure there’s no chance Kellog could still be lingering, right Doc?” asked Hancock. 

“Positive.” Amari said with a nod. “All of the encoded memories following the day when we accessed Kellogg’s memories are gone. Mr. Valentine himself is demonstrating this by his inability to recall anything that happened after that day. Kellogg had taken over, but he hadn’t erased Mr. Valentine. He was likely inside watching the whole time. But I had to delete that section of memory to remove any trace of Kellogg.” 

Valentine shuddered. “Frankly, Amari, I’m glad you did. If I was inside watching as that lunatic tried to murder my friends, those are memories I’m damn sure not going to miss. Alright, I’ll stay here. But uh… could one of you send word to Ellie, back at the office? I’m sure she’s worried.” 

“We’ve been in touch with her this whole time,” Hancock said. “She’s been one of our contacts in Diamond City. We had her keeping an eye out in case you—er, Kellogg, I guess—turned up there. Now that you’re back to normal—”

“As normal as I get, anyway,” Nick interrupted with a chuckle.

“Yeah, that,” Hancock grinned. “We’ll send runners before we head out to make sure everyone, including Ellie, knows that the alert is lifted and you’re safe again. Don’t need anyone shooting you on sight after everything we did to bring you back.” 

“You gonna hold this over my head the rest of my life, John?” 

Hancock’s face was suddenly serious. “Absolutely not. If anything, you should hold it over mine. We took a big chance and almost lost you. Having you back is mostly down to luck.”

Erica stepped forward and gave Nick a huge hug. “I’m sorry, Nick. I missed you.” 

“Ah, doll.” He hugged her tightly. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize for anything. I’d say I missed you, too, but it’s like I blinked and here we are.” 

She laughed through tears. “Unfortunately, I know exactly what you mean.” 


	22. Chapter 22

“About time you decided to show up.” The blonde woman in the hazmat suit glared at them through the visor on her helmet, shouting to be heard over the circling vertibirds. 

“Sorry Dr. Filmore, I had some personal business to conduct.” Although she was speaking loudly, Erica’s voice was cool and respectful. Still, Hancock knew her well enough to hear the animosity just beneath her words. 

The doctor turned and appraised Hancock, the look on her face indicating that perhaps she had just stepped in a pile of fresh molerat shit. “Yes, I see that. I wasn’t aware that you were bringing a… guest.” 

Hancock opened his mouth, wisecrack ready, but before he could fire it off, Erica spoke up again.

“He has just as much reason as you do to want to fight back against the Brotherhood. Maybe even moreso.”

“Father did say you’d been… cavorting… with the locals,” Dr. Filmore said with a touch of a sneer.

“It’s absolutely none of my son’s business who I choose to spend my time with,” Erica replied. “Now are we going to go get this agitator or whatever it’s called, or stay out here bickering.” 

Dr. Filmore was suddenly all business. “Many of our watchers are down for some reason, but we do have some located here in the streets and inside the building. Dr. Ayo reports that the Brotherhood have already infiltrated. If we’d gotten here a bit earlier, perhaps we could have dodged them.” She glared at Erica, but Erica’s expression didn’t change. “Mass Fusion is just down the block a bit further, and we’ll want to approach carefully. Once we give the signal, approximately a hundred gen ones and twos are ready to be deployed directly inside the building.” She studies Erica for a moment. “We’ll be entering a high radiation zone. You were briefed on this mission. Why didn’t you bring a hazmat suit? Do you have plenty of Radaway?”

Hancock did speak up this time. “She brought something better, didn’t she? I don’t need a hazmat suit to get into high rad areas. It’ll feel like sliding into a warm bath.”

Dr. Filmore turned to Erica. “You trust this… person… to do as we ask?” 

Erica glared back. “I trust him with my life, Allie.”

The other woman sighed. “Alright. Here we go then.” 

As Dr. Filmore turned toward the building, Hancock whispered in Erica’s ear. “Watchers?”

“The crows,” she answered just as quietly.

_Fuck._

  
  
  
  


As they neared the building, the racket increased exponentially. The place was absolutely crawling with Brotherhood, and when the building came in sight, Dr. Filmore spoke into a communicator device attached to her suit. The damage to the exterior of the building gave them an excellent view of the bright blue flashes of light as a hundred synths were immediately teleported in. Overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught, the Brotherhood turned on these new intruders, and soon the entire building seemed to sparkle with the blue and red bursts from Institute and Brotherhood laser weapons. 

“That should keep them occupied for a bit,” Dr. Filmore said, satisfied. “Hopefully they won’t even notice us. Let’s go.” 

They entered the building, keeping to the shadows. The synths’ programming told them to protect these people as they moved, and they formed a sort of wall, shielding them with their plastic and metal bodies from the Brotherhood’s blasts. Hancock remembered back to their time creeping through Fort Hagen, and the small army of synths just like these they’d had to destroy. The memory made him shudder, and he couldn’t help but reflect on what a strange feeling it was to now have these things on their side… for the moment, anyway. 

Occasionally a synth would drop, sparking, and when this happened, another was quick to take its place, although the occasional blast made its way through. 

“Ow, dammit!” Erica muttered, as a laser singed her arm, just barely missing her.

“Careful,” Hancock said. “I got some Psycho on me, but I ain’t in a big hurry to try reviving you right here.” 

“I’m trying,” she said. “There’s just so many of them…” 

There were, and those fucking vertibirds seemed to keep dropping off more and more. How many of them were up there on that goddamn airship anyway? It’s not like they could be mass produced in the same way the synths were. 

“Here,” Dr. Filmore called out. “This is the elevator down. Get in!” 

Hancock and Erica stepped in, and at the push of a button, they began descending. Unfortunately, the glass walls of the elevator had been long since destroyed, and they had no protection as they slid slowly through the atrium below the main floor. The elevator had clearly been designed to provide a nice view of the offices as it conveyed people to their destination, but the added result was that others in the building also got a nice view of those in the elevator. 

Immediately, the Brotherhood turned their firepower on the trio. The synths redoubled their own efforts, firing upon the Brotherhood soldiers. Several soldiers dropped, and those who remained were forced to turn their attention back to the synths, just to stay alive. 

With a groan and a shudder, the elevator came to a grinding halt, stopping so abruptly that Hancock nearly lost his balance. 

“Goddammit,” Dr. Filmore muttered. “They cut the power. Hurry, fan out. We have to get the elevator running again. It’s the only way to the labs.”

 _The people who built this place were fucking idiots_ , Hancock thought to himself as he and Erica bolted from the elevator and into a nearby office, slamming the door behind them and locking it so that they could search without being surrounded by laser blasts. _Who designs a building with no way back out of the lab in case of emergency? What if something happened? An earthquake? A blackout? A fucking nuclear blast?_ It suddenly occurred to him that perhaps this was by design and nobody was _supposed_ to leave in that sort of emergency, that the only exit was one that was easily crippled, and for a moment his blood ran cold. 

Erica had found a working computer and was searching through files frantically, the green light of the monitor reflecting in her glasses. Feeling a bit useless, he guarded the door. While the thick metal blocked out some of the noise, there were still plenty of shouts and laser blasts, and he hoped Allie had managed to barricade herself as well. Not that it would matter eventually, but for the time being, she was necessary if Erica was going to continue to maintain her facade. 

“Fucking hell, this place was a madhouse,” Erica said. “I know I’m supposed to be looking for the damn facilities management, but you should see some of the shit they were pulling here. Nate and I had Mass Fusion power in our home. It’s a damn good thing we never experienced an outage or we probably would have irradiated ourselves trying to fix it. It’s incredible that there were no reports of ghouls prior to the war with all the radiation they were sending to people’s homes.” 

“Mass Fusion… more like mass _con_ fusion,” Hancock cracked. She looked up at him with a quick smile, shook her head, and then focused on the screen again. Hey, it was a bad joke, but sometimes you just gotta break the tension, right? 

“Oh, oh, oh! I think I found it!” she said, her eyes wide. “Says there was a power surge… and here’s the command to restore power!” She pressed a button on the keyboard, the screen went blank, and then more text appeared. “There, that oughta do it!” She lifted the Pipboy and flipped through screens for a moment then spoke into it. “Allie, I found it, we should be good! Head back to the elevator!”

“Confirmed,” the doctor’s tinny voice said from the small computer on Erica’s arm.

“Ready?” Hancock asked. “I’m about to open the door.” 

She held the .44 revolver out in front of her. “Ready. Let’s do it.” 

He turned the lock and flung the door open, hoping to have the element of surprise on their side. It worked, and several soldiers froze, unsure whether to continue their attack on the woman in the hazmat suit as she raced across the atrium to the elevator or to attack these new threats. Their moment of indecision proved fatal as Hancock and Erica opened fire, the shotgun and the revolver firing in unison. 

In the confusion ( _mass_ confusion, Hancock’s brain threw at him again in a moment of ridiculousness), they bolted for the elevator as well, beating Allie there by a hair. Erica grabbed the other woman and yanked her in before frantically pressing the button and sending the elevator down into the darkness of the building’s lower floors.


	23. Chapter 23

The elevator doors slid open on a dimly lit lobby, all steel and gray, filled with rubble and overturned office furniture. Hancock wondered what exactly had gone down here in the minutes after the bombs fell and reflected for a moment on the absolute terror that must have filled the people who once worked here. 

He stepped out of the elevator and walked slowly forward, with Erica and Dr. Filmore close behind him. 

“This is it,” Dr. Filmore said. “We’re right above the reactor level.” 

“And just how do you know that, exactly?” Hancock asked, irritated. Erica raised her eyebrows at him, but he didn’t care. These people knew far more than they had any right to, and it made him nervous about how much else they knew. So much of what they were hoping to accomplish depended on the Institute being completely in the dark, and he couldn’t help but worry that they were being played as well. An endless card game in which everyone had an extra ace or two tucked up their sleeve. 

“We were able to access schematics to the building from the city of Boston’s public archives and have been studying them relentlessly in preparation for this mission,” Dr. Filmore answered.

He grunted noncommittally. It was a reasonable answer and one that didn’t point toward any sort of nefarious action (beyond the Institute’s usual level of nefarious, of course). 

“Alright then,” he said. “Lead the way, doc.” 

She glared at him, clearly annoyed by his audacity to give her any kind of directive. She also had no choice but to do exactly as he said. He grinned— _advantage, Hancock_. He and Erica followed as she led them down a flight of stairs. Erica flipped on her Pipboy’s light switch, causing the device to throw a sickly shade of green over everything. It did make it less likely that they would fall down the stairs, though, so Hancock didn’t comment. 

Past the stairs, they went down one more hallway, which opened into an enormous lab. Workspaces branched off the central aisle, and a wide, blue-tinged glass wall dominated the space. Whatever was through the glass was cloaked in a blue haze, although Hancock could catch glimpses of some sort of metal scaffolding.

“That’s it, ain’t it?” he said, lighting up a cigarette. “That agitator, or whatever. It’s in there.” 

“Yes,” Dr. Filmore said. “Once I disable the security and unlock the door, you’ll go through the hallway. I’ll then unlock the other door to let you in.”

“And you can’t unlock both doors at once because you both’ll wind up with a hefty dose of radiation, right?” he asked.

“Precisely.” 

Hancock looked through the side window to the hallway in question. “What about those decontamination showers in there? Those things go off while I’m in there, and I’m in deep shit.” 

“I’ll ensure that doesn’t happen,” Dr. Filmore replied. 

He didn’t like it—it meant essentially putting his life in the hands of this woman he neither knew nor trusted. He stared at her as he smoked, then shifted his eyes to Erica, trying to communicate to her without words. _Watch her_ , his eyes said. _Don’t let her do any shady shit._ Erica’s head subtly shifted downward, which he took to mean as a nod of understanding. It was the best he was going to get under the circumstances. 

Dr. Filmore stepped into one of the labs and started tapping on one of the computers. “Fortunately, the schematics we accessed also had detailed information about the building’s security systems—mostly as a warning to others. I’m breaking into the system to shut them down. I’m not particularly interested in fighting off sentry bots and assaultrons.”

“They had sentry bots _and_ assaultrons?” Erica said. “Jesus, they weren’t fucking around, were they?”

“Can you blame them?” Hancock said. “Imagine if something like this fell into the wrong hands.” He huffed out a laugh that held very little humor. “Well, we don’t exactly have to imagine it, do we? Something like this was definitely in the wrong hands, and we’re living in the result.” _And now we’re about to send this exact item into the wrong hands_ , he thought. _God help us all if we aren’t able to stop them_.

While Dr. Filmore worked on hacking into the security system, he and Erica poked around the offices. As expected, he found a nice stash of Mentats, most of which promptly went right into the pockets of his coat. Where there were geniuses, there were Mentats. It was like some kind of unspoken rule. The chem was a good way to get around those mental roadblocks that could stump you and stymie your work. You set yourself up to be brilliant, people expected you to be brilliant all the time. No one could be, of course, but the chems helped.

“Hey, John,” Erica said, with amusement in her voice. “You have to come see this.” She was poking around on a computer that was unlocked. “I wanted to see if I could get more information about what Mass Fusion was up to, and I stumbled across this. It’s hilarious.” 

He leaned in to read over her shoulder: “Tamash reaches into his pouch and sprinkles his communing dust in a circle around himself. He closes his eyes and calls upon the Knowledge of… Deeligasa? The fuck? ‘Deeligasa, Sage of the Ages, show me what my eyes can't see!’" He looked at Erica, confused. “What the fuck is this? It makes no sense.”

Erica was laughing so hard tears were streaming down her cheeks. “They were playing a game! Over their work computers!”

“A game? What kind of game?” He was familiar with games like poker and Blast Radius, but he’d never seen anything like this before. 

“It’s a roleplaying game. I had friends in college who played.” She wiped her eyes and brought up the next message. “Basically you created characters and acted them out while another person, who was called the game master or something along those lines, guided you through a story. I sat in with them once. It was fun, but I never really got into it. Those guys were obsessed though.” She read through the next message. “I can’t help wondering if these were friends of theirs.” 

Hancock continued reading. “Tamash drops the staff, reaches into his left front pocket, and pulls out a pinch of sulfur powder. He incants the Flameblaze spell and blows into the pile of powder towards the beast. If it works, the thing has to make a -5 fire check.” He shook his head. “It’s all gibberish to me, Sunshine.” 

“It would be helpful if I had a Flameblaze spell,” Erica said. “I’d be able to make much shorter work of some of the nasties out there.” 

He smiled at her and squeezed her shoulder. “You’re doing pretty well as is.” 

“Thank you, love.” 

“Finally,” Dr. Filmore’s voice announced. “Okay, security is disabled and we should be good to go. Are you ready, er… John, is it?”

Hancock straightened up and stepped away from the terminal. “Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.” 

“Okay, good,” she said. “The agitator is in the middle of the scaffolding. You’ll have to climb to the top, and then there will be a button that will release it from the reactor.”

“Scaffolding. Button. Got it.” He handed his shotgun to Erica. 

“Be careful,” Erica said in a soft voice. 

“Ain’t nothing in there can hurt me, Sunshine,” he replied with a grin. “Gonna be like basking in the sun on a gorgeous day.” 

He stepped toward the door and waited for Dr. Filmore to unlock it. It clicked open with a short buzz, and he walked down the hallway, wary of the decontamination showers that lined it. He knew the reservoirs were filled with Radaway-infused water and would be deadly if they came on, but they remained silent. Breathing a sigh of relief, he waited at the next door. The first door slammed shut with a clang, and the second door opened at the sound of another short buzz. 

As soon as the second door opened, a wave of intensely high radiation blew over him. It felt utterly exquisite, even better than the warm breeze on a summer day that he had described to Erica. The only word that came to mind to describe the sensation was “orgasmic,” and it was all he could do to continue moving his feet forward and up the scaffolding. 

Despite what he had said to Erica, it wasn’t entirely true that the radiation couldn’t hurt him, especially not at these levels. If he stayed in here too long, he risked going feral, and that thought cut through the bliss that had taken over his brain and got his feet moving considerably faster. 

He climbed upward through the euphoric haze in his brain until he reached the platform in the center. The reactor was there, in front of him, waves of radiation pouring off of it and crashing over his body. He spotted the release and slammed his hand down on it. The reactor opened, the machinery twisting to send the agitator toward him. The fucking thing even had a convenient handle for transport. He pulled and twisted, and the agitator came free. 

He quickly worked his way back down the scaffolding to the door. As soon as he stepped back into the hallway, the door clanged shut behind him, and the waves of radiation were gone, other than what the agitator was giving off. He blinked, waiting for his brain to clear a bit, shuddering in the same way he did post-orgasm. A moment later, Dr. Filmore’s voice rang through the hallway via intercom. 

“Erica is ready to open the other door, and I’ll be in there shortly to collect the agitator. I have a special shielded carrying case that will allow us to transport it safely.” 

An alarm bell went off in the recesses of his mind, but he was still trying to recover from the onslaught of pleasure the radiation had caused, so was unable to give it much thought. Instead, he gave a thumbs up. 

A few seconds later, the door opened—and when it did, the contamination showers came on, raining Radaway-infused water down on his body. The agony of it—the streams of water felt like rivers of fire—sent him to his knees, shrieking and writhing, the agitator falling from his grip and thudding on the wet floor, spinning slowly. 

He could barely see Dr. Filmore as she squatted in front of him and shoved the agitator in her bag. “Enjoy your bath, you freak of nature,” she muttered. There was a blue flash and she was gone, then the world went dark.


	24. Chapter 24

He drifted in and out of the darkness—and losing consciousness was sweet relief each time, since consciousness only consisted of screaming pain (and he was sure he was doing some screaming himself, as well). In one of his more lucid moments, he could hear Erica’s voice, frantic, choked with tears. Reality was wavering, but she was clearly giving instructions to someone: “Hurry, please! I don’t know how long he can hold out! I’ve given him…” Her voice kept blurring in and out, and it was difficult to follow. “Yes, Mass Fusion!”

Mass _Con_ fusion, his yammering, shrieking brain tried to reply. 

“No, it _has_ to be Nick! Jesus, no. Don’t let her come.”

Reality disappeared again for a moment, and as much as he loved Erica and wanted to be there for her, he leapt into the darkness with everything he had. The pain was just too much. This was worse than becoming ghoul. 

Eventually, he regained some consciousness to the sound of the elevator running. Was she leaving him? Did she think he was dead? If so, he wasn’t the least bit surprised. There was no way he could hang around much longer, not in this state of pain, but he was sad that she would leave before he’d breathed his last, leave him to die on his own. He wanted to weep for himself, for his ruined body, for Erica, for the whole fucking world, but he had no tears and his throat hurt from the screaming.

He drifted into darkness again. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


This time, it was the sound of familiar voices that brought him back to painful reality. 

“Holy fucking shit, what happened to his skin?!?” It was MacCready, and his voice was followed shortly after by the sounds of retching. _What the fuck, kid?_ Hancock thought to himself. _You act like you’ve never seen a fucking ghoul before._

“I see now why you didn’t want Fahrenheit to come.” The second voice was Nick Valentine’s dry drawl. Why was Nick here? Wasn’t he supposed to be resting? 

“I know, it’s so bad.” Erica’s voice was cracked and hoarse, but he still would have recognized it anywhere. “I don’t know how he’s still hanging in there.” 

Oh thank God—she hadn’t left him to die after all. But he couldn’t bear this pain for much longer without his mind snapping. If she knew how to fix this, she better do it quick. 

“He’s a tough guy, doll,” Valentine said. “Don’t worry. We’ll get this taken care of.” 

The next time she spoke, she was right next to his head. “Let me get his clothes off. They’re soaked in this water. Then I can step out and open the other doors so you can get him into the reactor chamber. I don’t know how to shut off the damn showers, but once you’re in there, get him into this hazmat suit, then he can get back out again, even when the fucking things turn on.” 

“That’s a smart plan, Erica,” Valentine replied. “He’s lucky to have you.” 

Hancock could feel her tugging at his clothes, and the intense pain caused by the fabric moving against his screaming nerve endings made him black out again.

  
  
  
  
  


  
Suddenly, the pain faded, replaced by the euphoria from before. The abrupt and sudden shift made him groan. He itched all over, a strange feeling, and his limbs felt heavy. He realized how completely exhausted he was. 

When he finally felt able to open his eyes, the first thing he could see was blue. Just blue. Fuck, had that bitch caused him to go blind? 

_No…_ his brain was able to think a little more clearly now. _It’s the blue of the reactor chamber._ I’m in here with the radiation. Whatever happened to me, this is helping. I’m healing. He blinked his eyes a couple times and was finally able to turn his head. The familiar face of Nick Valentine came into view, a look of deep concern in his yellow eyes. 

“Thought we mighta lost you there for a minute, John,” the synth said.

“That bad, huh?” Hancock croaked.

“Not sure if you’re up for it just yet,” Nick said, “but have a look at your hands. Just… be prepared, okay? It ain’t pretty.” 

Hancock offered up a crooked smile. “I ain’t pretty on my best days, Nicky, you know that.” 

The synth sighed. “The radaway in the water… well, it burned a lot of your skin away.”

“Oh shit,” Hancock breathed. With quite a bit of effort, he did lift one hand to inspect it. What Nick said was true, and he could only stare at his skinned hand in horror, the exposed tendons and flesh standing out, looking almost purple in the blue light.

“The good news is, it’s already healing in this radiation. Your face actually looks like you now, thank God. When he got a good look at you, MacCready puked in the corner.” Nick sighed. “I’m pretty glad I no longer have that particular function, but that was one of the most horrible sights I’ve ever seen. I’m amazed Erica had the wherewithal to call for us. She’s one smart doll, John. You hang on to her.” 

Hancock held up his other hand. It was true; the skin was slowly knitting itself back together, and it was quickly clear why his body was itching in the way it was. He turned his hand so the ring caught the light.

“I ain’t ever planning on letting her go, Nicky,” he said. 

Valentine chuckled. “So she finally made an honest man of you, eh? Good deal. I’m happy for you both.” 

Hancock grinned but soon had to put his hands down again; the effort of holding them up was just too much. “Why didn’t she just put on a hazmat suit and pull me in here?” he asked. “Why did she call for you guys? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad to see you and all, but it took time for you to here, and that shit fucking _hurt_ , Nicky. I’ve never been in that kind of pain in my life. And you know what kinda shit I’ve been through.”

“Because the damn doors are designed to only open and close with someone outside controlling them,” Nick replied. “Some kind of safety or security measure, I suppose. She had to stay outside and open the doors for us. Once you don’t look like raw Brahmin burger anymore, you’ll get to wear the hazmat suit on your way back out. Keep that damn water off you.” He chuckles a bit. “I know this ain’t the time for jokes, but this reminds me of an old pre-war movie. It was pretty old even in those days, but there was a character that couldn’t touch water or she’d melt. There’s a whole scene where she gets splashed with a bucket of water and shrieks out, ‘I’m melting! I’m melting!’ as she dies. Trying to keep you out of the water… well, it kinda reminds me of that.” 

“Pretty fucking morbid, there, Nicky,” Hancock said, not the least bit amused.

“Yeah, I know. Sorry about that.” Nick looked him over again. “You want some more Med-X? She dosed you with everything she could find to try to keep you going—Stimpaks, Buffout, Med-X… she was saving the Psycho in case your heart did actually stop.” 

“Shit, I was hurting like that even with Med-X?” Hancock shuddered. 

“There’s a reason why getting flayed alive was a medieval form of torture, John.” Nick grimaced. “She was wise to ask for MacCready to help me get here and not Fahrenheit. Fahr woulda taken one look at you, grabbed that device off Erica’s wrist, teleported herself to the Institute, and started shooting any damn thing that moved. Hell, I’m half tempted to do it myself. How Erica’s going to play nice with them after this is beyond me.” 

“I can’t believe that bitch did that,” Hancock said. “It’s like I had a feeling she would, but I didn’t actually _think_ she would, you know? She had to have known that would risk alienating Erica.” 

“I can’t help wondering if she did it on purpose to test her, find out where her loyalties lie,” Nick replied. 

“Shit, you’re probably right,” Hancock muttered. He realized he was starting to feel more like himself and sat up. His entire body still ached, but it wasn’t the searing, sizzling pain of before. This he could live with. He looked down at himself. His skin had reformed into the thick, scarred, ghoul-style skin he was so used to seeing on himself now, but at the same time, it looked different. “Huh,” he grunted.

“What’s up?” Valentine asked.

“The scars are different now,” Hancock said. “Looks like I’m wearing some other ghoul’s skin.”

“Well, I’m pleased to say I’ve never seen you bare ass naked before today, so I can’t really comment, but I’m not particularly surprised,” Valentine said. “You basically had to grow yourself a fresh set of skin. I think you’re about done, at any rate. Ready to get the hell out of here?”

“Jesus, I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready,” Hancock said. “Give me that monkey suit, will ya?” 

Valentine passed him the hazmat suit, and Hancock started working his legs into it. His new skin was still tender and damp, and the suit clung to it slightly, making him wince. 

“You okay there, John?” Nick asked. 

“Yeah, I got it.” He eventually worked the full suit onto himself and zipped it up, then donned the helmet. “I feel like a fucking idiot.” Once the suit was on, the euphoric, painkilling effects of the radiation quickly dissipated. “I feel like I got worked over by a goddamn deathclaw.” 

“That probably would have been preferable to the reality,” Nick replied.

Hancock sighed. “Yeah, probably.” 

Once they were both standing, Nick gave a signal and the door opened. As they slowly made their way down the small hallway, the showers came on. Hancock cringed, hating himself for it even while he was unable to help it, but the suit protected him from the water. 

“Goddammit,” Nick commented, with a touch of amused good cheer. “I probably should have stripped down myself. Now I’m soaked.” 

Hancock chuckled. “Hey, could be worse,” he offered. 

When they reached the end of the hallway, the showers shut off and the door clicked open. Before he could even get through it, though, Erica had her arms around him, crying against his chest. 

As much as he wanted to hold her, it hurt, and he had to carefully untangle her. “I’m sorry, Sunshine. I’ll hold you properly soon, but I can’t just yet, okay?”

She stepped backing, looking mortified. “Oh shit, John. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you!” 

“Of course you didn’t, Sunshine. You did everything right.”

“I’m going to murder that fucking bitch when I see her!” The look on Erica’s face said quite clearly that if Dr. Filmore was standing in front of her right now, she’d have a knife in her throat before she could even move.

Hancock put his gloved hands on her arms and gently squeezed. “No, you ain’t. Let’s get back to town and we’ll discuss our next moves, okay?”

The fire in her eyes seemed to go out, replaced by stress and exhaustion. “I can’t keep doing this, John. Not for much longer.” 

“I don’t think you’ll have to, Sunshine. I suspect we’ll be showing our hands soon. But we gotta do it on our terms, okay? Not out of rage.” 

She nodded. “Okay. Let’s get home.” 

“Take it slow, okay? I’m still healing.” 

She nodded again. 

Hancock turned to MacCready. “Thanks for helping Nick get here safely, kid.” 

“Yeah no problem.” The sniper shuffled his feet and looked embarrassed. “Sorry about the puking.” 

Hancock shrugged. “From what I hear, I don’t blame you in the least. Now let’s get the fuck out of this hellhole.”


	25. Chapter 25

The small group arrived back in Goodneighbor long after dark. By the time they reached the gate, Hancock was practically suspended between Nick and MacCready. He was completely exhausted and every inch of him ached. While his skin had finished healing, it still itched and stung, reminding him uncomfortably of the pain he’d gone through while he was turning ghoul. Erica had followed close behind, alert and ready for anything. 

“I’m glad we took out so many of those crows,” she commented at one point. “I’m sure that bitch figured that with you out of the picture I might be more likely to join them, and I’d prefer that they not know the truth just yet.” 

“That’s some fucked up logic on their part,” MacCready said. “You killed the person I love, therefore I should become one of you?”

“I didn’t say it would make sense,” Erica replied, her voice dark. “They have an overriding belief that they are right about everything and any choice they make must be the right one simply because they made it.”

“Pretty damn narcissistic way of looking at the world,” Nick offered. 

“That’s a good way to describe it,” Erica agreed. 

Once inside the gate, Nick and MacCready stuck around to help Hancock up the stairs of the Old State House. 

“I can take it from here, guys,” Erica said at the door of their room as she eased Hancock’s arm over her shoulder. “Thank you for everything. And let Preston know that I appreciate him getting the message to you guys so fast. I don’t know what we would have done otherwise.”

“Any time, doll,” Nick said, giving Erica a small kiss on the cheek. “All you gotta do is ask. John, you take it easy, got it? Let your wife take care of you.” 

Hancock offered a tired, crooked grin. “You don’t gotta tell me twice.” 

“Okay then.” Nick squeezed Hancock’s shoulder and headed down the stairs. 

“You scared the shit outta me today, man,” MacCready said. “You gotta quit doing that.” 

“Ain’t like I try, kid,” Hancock said.

“I know, but still…” The young sniper wrapped his arms around both Erica and Hancock and gently squeezed, mindful of Hancock’s injuries. “I love you guys.” 

“I… I love you too…” Erica said, sounding rather surprised. 

“I love you too, kid,” Hancock said, his voice rougher than usual. “Go ahead and get some rest. We’ll be alright now, and we’ll see you in the morning.” 

MacCready released them and practically stumbled back down the stairs, wiping his eyes. 

“Quite the love fest we got going on,” Hancock commented, amusement in his voice. 

“It’s good to be loved,” Erica said as she got the door open and helped him inside. 

“Can’t argue with that,” he said, dropping his hat on the desk. The coat soon followed, and then he staggered over to the bed, falling back on it, completely drained. Erica sat down next to him. 

“Let me help you get undressed, sweetheart,” she said. 

“No offense, Sunshine, but I ain’t really in the mood for any hanky panky tonight,” he said. “Sorry about that.” 

She chuckled. “That wasn’t really what I was going for, and I’d be absolutely amazed if you were. You’ve been through hell and back today. I just want to help you get comfortable so you can rest.” 

“Oh, well, okay then.” It took some effort, but he sat up and let her unbutton and remove his shirt, gently sliding it over his arms. 

With the shirt off, she studied him for a moment in the lantern light. “Huh.” 

“Uh… what’s up, Sunshine?” 

“Your scarring,” she said, her voice low. “It’s… different.” 

“What… what do you mean?” He looked down at his chest and belly. Sure enough, as his skin had healed, it had formed into new ghoulish swirls, divots, and ridges. He ran his fingers lightly over his stomach, noting the difference. “It’s… like I got someone else’s body now.” 

Her own fingers soon followed, trailing over his chest and to his back. “It’s still you, of course. I’ll just… have to take some time to rememorize your body.”

“I ain’t gonna argue about that,” he said with a grin. “Take all the time you need, Sunshine.” 

“I will, but later. Right now you’re going to sleep.” She smiled, and helped him lift his legs up onto the bed, then crawled in next to him and pulled the covers over them both before blowing out the lantern. In the darkness, they reached for each other, and she held him close, and as he drifted off, he could feel her fingers lightly caressing his skin, beginning the work of relearning him. 

  
  
  
  
  


He woke up to light streaming in through the windows and turned his head slightly to see Erica curled up next to him, her arm over his chest and her head against his shoulder. Her tousled hair mostly concealed her face, and he gently moved a few locks away so he could see her better. She looked somewhat worried as she slept, a line between her eyebrows and a small frown on her lips, but she was still completely gorgeous in his view. 

He stretched out his legs and the arm that Erica wasn’t snuggled up against, checking how he felt. While he still ached, the sleep had clearly done him a world of good. His muscles didn’t feel as stiff and sore as they had yesterday, and his skin had ceased to itch. 

He held his hand up in front of his face and studied the new ridges and valleys in the skin. He noted that he no longer knew the back of his hand and snorted a little, somewhat amused. It would take some time to get used to it, and he wondered how much his face had been altered as well. 

Jostled awake by his slight movements, Erica raised a sleepy head up, and gazed at him, her eyes only half awake. “Good morning… how are you feeling?” 

“Good morning, Sunshine,” he responded, his voice soft and filled with love. “Bit better this morning. No longer feel like I got trampled by a herd of deathclaws at least.” 

She leaned over and gave him a light kiss. “Good. I was really worried about you last night.” 

“I was pretty worried about me too,” he said. “Ain’t gonna lie. Uh… can I ask you something though?” 

“Of course,” she answered. “Anything.” 

“Well, uh. How different does my face look?” 

She studied him, her expression serious, and her fingers traced along the lines of his scarring and the twisted patterns caused by radiation. “Not that different, honestly,” she said. “I think your features help. I’d recognize you anywhere.” Her fingers ran across the lines of his cheek. “This is a little different. The spacing between the ridges is different, and I think some of these lines aren’t quite as deep as they were before, but you’re still clearly you. The skin on your chest and back looks far more different than the skin on your face.” 

“Well, that’s good. Wouldn’t want people ignoring me when I give them orders, after all.” 

She smiled. “I don’t think you have to worry about that.” She snuggled against him, her fingers still exploring. “Hmmm. I’m sure they’ll expect me to take some time to ‘mourn.’ Maybe I should take advantage of that and get started right away.” 

“Get started with what?” he asked, hugging her tightly to him, not ready to relinquish her just yet. You gotta run off on another job?” 

“No silly,” she said with a small laugh. “Get started memorizing you again. All that hard work, gone!” 

“Didn’t realize it was such a chore,” he said with a crooked grin.

“It’s not. It’s my favorite hobby.” She curled up in his arms and kissed him deeply, her hands beginning to wander along his chest, stomach, and back. 

He sighed contentedly and relaxed, already planning to spend the rest of the day in bed with his wife, rediscovering each other’s bodies.


	26. Chapter 26

They were lying in bed, her head resting on his chest and their fingers entwined, when the knock came on the door. 

“Fuck off!” he yelled. Erica snickered. 

The voice on the other side of the door was muffled but unmistakably MacCready’s. “Need to talk to you, Boss!” 

“Goddammit,” he mumbled before calling out again. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. I’m busy! Now fuck off!” 

There was the sound of a heavy sigh and some murmuring from behind the door, MacCready’s voice and a woman’s. _Probably that Scribe_ , he thought to himself. Having her around still made him nervous, especially now that they’d gone to battle with the Brotherhood twice. 

MacCready called out again. “Please, Boss. It’s important. We need to talk to Erica too.” 

Hancock cursed again. “Fuck’s sake. Fine, dammit. Let me get my fucking pants on.” He swung his legs out of the bed and strode naked across the room to the wardrobe to grab a clean pair of pants and a shirt. His much-favored ruffled shirt lay crumpled in the corner, in desperate need of a wash after everything that had happened the previous day. He’d check in with Daisy later. In the meantime, he’d have to deal with these two in a t-shirt and jeans, a prospect he was not excited about. He hated not feeling like himself, and with different duds and now essentially different skin, he felt far less like himself than usual. 

He turned back around to see Erica watching him from the bed, a small smile on her face. “What’s up?” 

“Just enjoying watching my handsome husband getting dressed,” she said.

“Oh yeah? Well now it’s your turn while I watch,” he said, a grin spreading across his face. He jogged over to the bed and pounced on her, kissing her neck as she squealed with delight.

MacCready’s voice floated through the door. “You uh… you guys know that we can hear you… right?” 

Erica flopped back on the bed laughing, and Hancock called back to MacCready, chuckling, “I know you’re jealous that I ain’t letting you watch, but you don’t have to be so obvious about it!” 

“Just get dressed so we can talk, will you?” MacCready’s exasperation was becoming clear. 

“All right, all right.” Hancock got up and extended his hand for Erica. She took it with a gentle squeeze and was soon up and dressed herself. She adjusted her glasses and ran a hand through her tousled curls. Once she was clearly ready, Hancock finally opened the door. He was correct—the former Scribe, Haylen, was with MacCready. 

“Have a seat,” he said, gesturing at a couch. “What the hell’s so goddamn important?” 

Haylen sat down, then turned to Erica. “We intercepted a communication from the Brotherhood.” 

“What’s going on? I don’t know if you heard, but they were there at Mass Fusion. Tipped off about the Institute’s moves somehow. I hope we don’t have a spy.” Hancock considered this. He had wondered the same thing himself before. He mentally stuck a pin in it, something to worry about later. “Did they recognize me? I’d be hoping they’d be licking their wounds and worrying about the Institute.” 

“They actually didn’t say anything about you, so I’m not sure.” She took a deep breath. “This is in regards to Danse.” 

Erica’s eyebrows raised. “I thought you said he should be safe in that bunker.” 

“Well, yes,” Haylen said. “And he has been, for a while. But it seems that Maxson has caught on. He’s flying over himself to… ‘deal with the synth traitor,’ as he puts it.” 

Erica leaned forward, her head in her hands. “I thought we had time. I feel horrible. I’ve been so focused on finding Shaun and now trying to deal with all the Institute’s bullshit, I all but forgot about Danse.” When she lifted her head, tears streaked her cheeks. “He can be an ass, but he doesn’t deserve this.” 

“It’s okay, Erica,” Haylen said, reaching over to take the other woman’s hand. “You’ve had far more on your plate than anyone should ever have to deal with.” Hancock rubbed Erica’s back, in agreement with Haylen. “I’ve been… distracted... too.” Her eyes, filled with guilt, briefly cut over to MacCready. “But there’s some good news. It’s not too late—yet. According to the message, he’s not heading out until tomorrow morning. Apparently there’s something else on his plate for today, and he knows Danse isn’t going anywhere. There’s still time for us to get there!” 

“So we need to leave now,” Erica said.

“Yeah,” answered MacCready. “That’s why we couldn’t come back later. You know how I hate to interrupt.” A small smirk crossed his face, and Haylen lightly swatted at him, rolling her eyes with a slight smile. 

Erica turned to Hancock. “I’ll go with MacCready and Haylen. You should stay here and rest.” 

“You crazy?” he said. His voice was light, but his hairless brows furrowed. “I ain’t risking you out there. Especially not now that the Brotherhood know for sure that you ain’t on their side.”

“We still don’t know that they know that,” she said, sounding unsure and glancing at Haylen for confirmation. 

Haylen shrugged. “It’s hard to say. They haven’t discussed it over the radio, so I have no way of monitoring it. I’ve been listening in as much as possible—that’s how we caught this transmission—but I can’t catch everything.” 

“That’s okay,” Erica said. “You’re still doing amazing, and the intel on their movements is incredibly valuable.” She sighed. “Alright, I guess we’ll get going then.” She turned back to Hancock. “I can’t possibly convince you to stay here?” 

He lit up a cigarette. “Ain’t gonna happen, Sunshine. Not in a million years.” 

“Fine. But at least tell me if you need a break. It’ll take us about half a day to get up there, but if Maxson isn’t leaving until the morning, we have a little wiggle room.” 

He nodded his agreement. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


The small group met up by the gates about a half hour later, ready for the day’s hike. 

“So where exactly is this place, anyway?” Hancock asked. 

“It’s a bit to the northeast,” Haylen said. “We’ll skirt Bunker Hill, then cut north to County Crossing, one of Preston’s Minutemen settlements. That’ll probably be a good place for a break, actually. From there, we can continue up the road north, and then when we get close to Greentop Nursery, another settlement, we can start heading east. From there, it’s not far at all.” 

Erica had her Pipboy on, turned to the map, and followed along as Haylen gave directions. She poked at the screen and marked a spot. “Right about here?” she asked, showing Haylen the device. 

Haylen nodded. “Yeah, that’s pretty close.” 

“Okay, that’s not bad at all. Handy to have the two settlements nearby too, both as spots to rest and for backup in case we need it.” She paused for a moment. “Do you think Preston should come with us? Just in case we need help convincing the settlers? I doubt they want much to do with the Brotherhood’s business.” 

“He’s actually already headed toward Greentop,” MacCready said with a grin. “We let him know what was going on, and he booked out before we even talked to you.” 

“So why do you need us at all?” Hancock asked. “Or, at least, why do you need Erica? I know I’m just extra baggage on this journey.” 

“Because we’re going to need to convince Danse to come back to Goodneighbor with us,” Haylen said. “He doesn’t know Bobby, and he’d think I was nuts… or a synth replacement. Why on earth would I want to take him to Goodneighbor, right? He knows Erica—and trusts her—and knows she lives here. Erica, you think you can convince him?” 

“I can try,” she said. “He’s going to hate it though. At first anyway.” 

“He’ll adjust,” MacCready said. “That Institute scientist already has. In fact, he’s spending all his time around Dr. Amari now.” He grinned and winked. 

“Amari and Dr. Virgil?” Hancock looked somewhat stunned. “Wouldn’t’ve seen that one coming.” 

“I don’t think Amari saw it coming either,” MacCready chuckled. “She always looks a little shocked these days.” 

“I had kind of assumed that she and Irma were a thing,” Erica said. 

Hancock laughed. “Nah, Irma just flirts with whoever goes through that door. Ol’ Irma’s been holding out for Nicky for the longest time, but she’d have to fight Ellie tooth and nail.” 

Erica laughed and rolled her eyes. “High drama around here. I’m sure Danse will make it work. At least there will be a couple friendly faces to help him adjust.” She settled her pack on her shoulders, making sure the straps were secure and wouldn’t rub uncomfortably. “Alright let’s hurry up and get going. I’d hate for Maxson to beat us there because we were all standing around gossiping like a bunch of old ladies.” 


	27. Chapter 27

The trip to County Crossing was mostly uneventful. The pack of feral dogs they encountered barely had an opportunity to growl before they were blown to bits by the impressive range of firepower between the four of them. 

“God help any raiders that decide to take a shot at us,” MacCready said with a grin. Haylen smiled at him and bumped her hip against his. Hancock and Erica glanced at each other, both noting the couple’s playfulness. Hancock was glad to see MacCready apparently happy. The kid had been through a hell of a lot in his young life, already having lost a wife, with a young son he sent money to but had no way to see. Hancock wanted good things for the kid, even if it meant Goodneighbor would eventually lose him as its resident sniper. 

When they arrived at the settlement, they were greeted by the guard who had been watching for them. Hancock hadn’t been up here in ages, not since his last trip to the Slog, anyway. At that time, there had been no settlement here, just a couple of guys working a patch of mutfruit trees. Now though, under the Minutemen, it was a well-fortified, bustling town. Guard towers were placed in strategic corners, a ring of fence topped with barbed wire circled the perimeter, and a row of what appeared to be apartments stood opposite to the mutfruit orchard, with a small shopping square next to it. A few brahmin mooed from a nearby pen, and a water purifier chugged in the small pond nearby. Lights were strung everywhere, bright even in the cloudy daylight, giving the small town a cheery feeling, despite the heavy fortifications. 

He whistled low. “Preston’s been busy, ain’t he?” 

The man who greeted him nodded happily. “The General’s a good guy. We’re proud to be a Minutemen settlement. Especially now we’re hearing that progress is being made in the fight against the Institute. Gonna take those bastards down!” The man’s strong Boston-tinged accent rang through loud and clear, turning “bastards” into something more akin to “bastids.” 

Erica and Hancock exchanged another glance, this one more concerned. Exactly how much was Preston telling people about what was happening? The signs were posted everywhere in pre-war buildings: Loose lips sink ships. If the wrong person got wind that Erica wasn’t on the Institute’s side…. They’d have to have a chat with Preston when they got to the Nursery. While Hancock appreciated the man’s enthusiasm for his work, some discretion was still needed. 

The man led them into the town. “Name’s Frankie. I came here when they started broadcasting the radio signal. Almost immediately got put on guard duty, but I like it. Gives me something to do, and it’s a hell of a lot easier on the back than tending mutfruit all day!” As the small group walked through the settlement, their heads swiveled as they took it all in. 

“You guys are gonna be rivaling Diamond City soon,” MacCready commented. “This is incredible.” A couple caravan hands milled about in a corner, smoking and looking bored. 

“I don’t know about that,” Frankie said, his voice full of what Hancock suspected was false modesty. “But we’re doing alright for ourselves.” 

“We ain’t staying long,” Hancock said. “Just taking a short lunch and then heading up the road to Greentop.” 

“That’s what the General said,” replied Frankie. “We got a little spread set up for you guys over by the bar, though, so you can kick your feet up and enjoy for a bit. Greentop ain’t got quite so many manematees as we do, so we’ll take of you.” 

Hancock caught Erica’s amused smile at the man’s mispronunciation of “amenities.” 

“You guys got a little bit of a competition going?” Haylen asked. 

“Competition?” Frankie said with a good-natured grin. “Ain’t no competition. We’re just better than them.” 

Hancock couldn’t help but laugh at this. A pair of kids went running by, with a brief pause to gawk at the new people. “You got families here, huh?” 

“Oh yeah, them’s the O’Brien kids, Sarah and Dylan,” Frankie said. “Sometimes they stay with a relative in Diamond City so they can go to school there. We’re on the hunt for someone who wants to be a teacher so we can start having our own school. Then we’ll really be something.” 

Haylen looked around with a curious expression, clearly mulling over the idea. _She and MacCready could maybe set up here_ , Hancock thought to himself. Bring his boy over from D.C. Start their own family. They’d still be nearby and close enough to visit. Would be good for them both.

“Once this is over,” Haylen said to Frankie, “let’s talk.” 

“Ain’t me you want to talk to,” Frankie replied, “but if you think you’re interested, I can introduce you to Lieutenant Wilson. She’s running the place. She ain’t in town right now, though. She headed up to the Nursery as part of the contingent that’s on hand as backup for whatever your mission is.” 

The man was clearly fishing for info, but nobody offered up any details. He shrugged and dropped it, and soon they were at the small bar and restaurant. A concrete patio held a few scattered picnic tables, one of which was covered with food—cold sliced radstag, a salad made of tatos and carrots, dense razorgrain muffins with chunks of mutfruit embedded in them, and cold Nuka Colas. 

“Wow, man, you guys hooked us up!” MacCready said, his eyes lighting up at all the food. He quickly had a seat and started loading a plate. 

“Save some for the rest of us,” Erica said with a laugh and helped herself as well. Haylen rolled her eyes and smiled and sat next to MacCready as Hancock slid in next to Erica. A few of the town’s settlers came by to wave and say hi as the group enjoyed their lunch. 

“I feel famous,” Erica commented, after another group came by. 

“Hate to say it, Sunshine, but you kind of are,” Hancock replied. 

She sighed. “I don’t think I like it. I’d really prefer to fly a bit more under the radar.”

“You will. Someday. I promise.” 

She gave him a tired smile and leaned against him. Without his signature coat and hat, he himself was flying under the radar—just another ghoul. He’d spotted a few ghoul settlers in town who appeared to blend in just fine, and most people’s eyes glanced over him without any sort of change in expression, which was a relief. Most people seemed far more curious at the fact that a ghoul seemed to be so close with a human, given that human/ghoul relationships were still a bit of a rarity. 

After he’d eaten his fill, he sat back and stretched. “We’re supposed to walk again after this? I’m ready for a nap!” 

Erica laughed and rested her head on his shoulder. “Me too, love.” 

“Why don’t we just check out the town for a bit?” MacCready suggested. “Let lunch settle.” 

“Good plan,” said Haylen, and the group slowly staggered to their feet, groaning from all the excellent food. 

  
  
  
  
  


After slowly wandering about, restocking some supplies at the trading stand, and being given more mutfruit than they could possibly carry, they headed out the front gate, again accompanied by Frankie. 

“Hope to see you guys again, soon,” he said. 

“We’ll definitely be by again,” Haylen said. “I want to talk to this lieutenant of yours.” 

“Glad to hear it!” The guard waved as they left County Crossing behind. 

“I had no idea this was what Preston was up to,” MacCready said. “I thought he was just throwing up a couple shacks, telling people to come hang out, and calling it a day.” 

“Oh, he’s completely serious about rebuilding,” Erica said. “He used to constantly nag me about it until I told him to go fuck himself.” She laughs. “Not very nice of me, but he was driving me crazy. He kept wanting to put me in charge. Me! Can you imagine?” 

“You probably coulda done it,” Hancock said. 

“Love, you remember how it was back then. I couldn’t even take care of myself, let alone rebuild an army.” 

“I know. But now.…”

“Oh hush,” she gently swatted him. “Don’t say that in front of him. He’ll get ideas again. He’s doing amazing. I’m glad to have him and the Minutemen as allies. And it was good to see the training area at County Crossing. If they have something like that at all the allied settlements… the Institute won’t even know what hit them.” 

“Why don’t we just storm the place now?” MacCready asked. “Especially after they tried to pull that shit on the mayor?”

“I don’t have a way to get everyone in,” she answered. “Yet. I think you’re right. though—things are going to come to a head soon. I wish I had a way to get Sturges in. He could probably figure out how to hijack that transporter in no time flat. Right now my only way in or out is this stupid thing.” She tapped the Pipboy on her arm. “But there are so many underground tunnels… I bet there’s another way in. We just haven’t found it yet. I’ll double down on my search next time I’m there. I think my time for teleporting in and out is coming to an end. If they’re willing to try to kill the ones I love to get me to stay.…” She shook her head. “It just won’t be safe for me to draw it out any longer, no matter what Desdemona wants. I can’t risk you guys. Any of you.” She took Hancock’s hand and squeezed it. 

“How far to the next settlement?” Haylen asked. 

Erica consulted the map in the Pipboy. “About two hours.” 

“We’ll talk to Preston then,” Haylen replied. “Let him know that it’s time to start getting the troops ready. Double their training.” 

Erica nodded. “I’m glad we have you Haylen. Do you think Danse will be willing to help with the training, once he’s safe?” 

She was quiet for a moment. “It’ll be against the Institute, but it will be to save synths. I… think so. Especially now that he knows the truth about himself. I just… don’t know. Not for sure. Plus… I just don’t know how traumatized he is by everything. He may need time, and… I just don’t know if we have it.” 

“That’ll have to be good enough for now.” 

“You could make it part of the conditions of his rescue,” MacCready said. 

Haylen looked horrified. “Bobby!” 

“Sorry, sorry! I forget sometimes… where you came from.” 

“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not.” 

Erica interrupted the growing spat. “I’m not setting conditions. I’m rescuing him because he doesn’t deserve what Maxson probably has in store for him. But I do hope he’ll help. We could really use his military expertise. Between him and Preston… I think we’ll have a real shot at this.”


	28. Chapter 28

Another couple hours of walking had them approaching the Nursery. Runners spotted them and ran back to alert the others that they were coming, while a couple remain to walk with the small group to the settlement, chattering happily as if the group had arrived for a simple visit rather than a dangerous rescue mission. 

Following their argument, MacCready and Haylen had been short with each other for a half hour or so after leaving County Crossing, worrying Hancock, but they seemed to get over it quickly and swung their held hands between them as they approached the next settlement. Hancock walked close to Erica, their shoulders occasionally brushing.

“Sorry about the escort,” one of the men walking with them said. “We’ve had some trouble with muties lately, and didn’t want you guys to get caught off guard. 

“Appreciate it,” Hancock said, lighting up a cigarette. “Although I hear you got so much firepower now, why don’t you just kill the green bastards?”

“We did,” the other man said. “And they keep coming back. Drives us up the fucking wall. We’d like to use the place they keep setting up as a separate section of the farm. Lots of nice soil for growing corn, tatos, melons… shit like that. But those fuckers just keep forging the goddamn river and setting up shop again. They killed the family that tried to move in there, so we haven’t tried again.” 

Erica cursed, angry at the idea of losing more people. “Hopefully once everything is said and done we’ll be able to get that area permanently cleared out,” she said. “But I agree. Just leave it for now. I don’t want anyone to risk their lives over tatos and corn. Not with the trade arrangements Preston has set up.” 

The man nodded and grinned. “Preston said that was what you would say. That’s why he made that call.” 

Hancock chuckled. “You might be in charge of the Minutemen whether you like it or not, Sunshine.” 

She groaned. “Don’t even joke about that!”

He flicked his cigarette with a grin and winked at her as they crested the hill and headed into the settlement. It wasn’t quite as built up as County Crossing, but it was still impressive. Because of the constant threat of the nearby mutants, it was far more heavily fortified than County Crossing, with high cement walls, several guard towers, and turrets spinning along walkways. The nursery itself, the settlement’s name sake, was bustling with people tending the mutfruit growing inside. 

“Between here and that other settlement, I think we got the mutfruit situation squared away,” MacCready said with a chuckle. 

Erica nodded. “Yeah, Preston said this region is perfectly suited for them, so it works well. They grow a lot of corn and razorgrain to the west, and with the new tradelines, nobody is hurting for anything. He has a really good mind for this stuff.” 

“Speaking of…” Hancock said as Preston came striding up with a big grin on his face. 

“Mayor! Erica! It’s good to see you!” Erica smiled as Preston swept her into a hug. 

“It’s good to see you, too. I can’t believe how much you’ve done here and at County Crossing! This is amazing, Preston!”

“It’s turning out alright, isn’t it?” the Minuteman said, his dark cheeks flushing at the compliment. “A lot of the settlers already had some good agricultural chops, and Sturges helped them set up water systems and some other automation, and now we’re really rolling! All these places have taken on a life of their own!”

“Is Sturges here?” Hancock asked. 

“Right over there, at the bar,” Preston said, waving. Hancock looked over, spotted Sturges waving back, and gave him a nod in greeting. He liked the mechanic. The guy had a good head on his shoulders. 

“Okay,” MacCready said. “So what’s the plan here? Are we just storming the place or what?” 

Erica shook her head, suddenly all business. “No, that would be dangerous. I think the best thing to do is have me and Haylen go in. He’s not going to know or trust anyone else. But let’s have some of you guys stationed outside the bunker… just in case of unexpected company.” 

MacCready nodded. “I can perch up in a tree if you like. I do my best work in high places anyway.” 

Haylen snickered. “I can actually attest to that.” MacCready grinned. 

Hancock rolled his eyes. _Must be some private joke between the two of them_ , he thought. He didn’t want to know the details. 

Erica adjusted her pack. “When are we heading over then?”

“No time like the present,” Preston said. 

She nodded, a satisfied look on her face. Hancock was relieved that they weren’t planning to draw it out. Every minute they dallied was a minute when Maxson could change his mind and decide to show up after all. 

“Okay, so where is this place?” he asked. 

“Only a couple miles to the east,” Preston said. “We’ve already scouted it out. Looks abandoned. A few folks are already stationed there, just in case. Lieutenant Wilson from County Crossing, for instance.”

“Thank you, Preston,” Erica said. “I really appreciate your help on this.” 

He nodded. “Of course, Erica. We’ll get this taken care of.” He gave a short whistle, and several Minutemen came jogging. “Alright, let’s head out.” 

Hancock and Erica fell into step behind Preston and his people. He recognized a couple of them from the troop that had come with Preston to Goodneighbor. It was good to see these loyal folks, ready to fight for their home. It gave him hope. 

The journey to the bunker was, as promised, quick. As they approached, the accompanying Minutemen melted into the nearby woods, taking up their places. 

Erica turned to him. “I’m sorry, love. You’ll be staying out here with the backup team.” 

He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a kiss. “I know, Sunshine. My face ain’t gonna help convince him to come along.”

She looked at him sadly, and gently cupped his cheek. “He’ll come around I’m sure.” 

He chuckled. “I ain’t counting on it. But if he’s gonna stay in Goodneighbor, he’ll need to keep his opinions on ghouls to himself.” 

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” she said with a sigh. “And hopefully we will.” She turned to the other woman. “Ready, Haylen?”

Haylen nodded. “Yup. Operation Toaster Rescue is a go.” 

Shock and amusement warred in Erica’s face. “Toaster rescue?” she asked. 

“I came up with it,” MacCready said with a grin. 

“Of course you did,” Erica said, shaking her head. 

The two women stepped forward and disappeared into the darkness of the deserted-looking bunker. Hancock identified a suitable-looking nearby bush and ducked down into it. He took a hit of Jet to pass the time, and watched as MacCready hauled his skinny frame up a nearby tree and perched in it. 

As he settled down to wait, he cursed his damaged hearing once more. Nobody else seemed to be reacting, but he could swear he heard the sounds of vertibirds in the distance.


	29. Chapter 29

Time passed, marked by a growing pile of anxiously chain-smoked cigarettes. What could possibly be happening down there? The guy was catching a huge break—you wouldn’t think it would take much convincing to get him to leave the bunker where he’d been stuck for the last month or so. Exactly how long had it been? It felt like everything was happening ridiculously fast but somehow slowly at the same time, and he wasn’t exactly sure how that was possible.

The light buzz of vertibirds seemed to be getting louder, and it made him nervous. Granted, it seemed like there were always Brotherhood vertibirds in the skies these days, but this mission needed to go smoothly. And that Maxson asshole wasn’t due until the following morning. 

_Quit working yourself up over it, dammit_ , he tried to remind himself. _Gonna give yourself a fucking heart attack over the stress, and nobody needs that shit right now._

But where the fuck were they? 

He spotted a few of the others hiding around him. MacCready was perched between two branches in a nearby tree, while Preston hunkered down in the shadow of an ancient, rusted out tank. A couple moving hats gave away others’ positions as they fidgeted, waiting. 

Suddenly, it seemed like the sound of the vertibirds doubled. He couldn’t be imagining it—it was like everyone’s head was on a swivel and they all turned at once. It looked so perfectly coordinated, he had to clap a gnarled hand over his mouth to keep from cackling out loud. 

A stiff breeze shook the copse of trees, and he saw MacCready change his position slightly so he could get a better grip on the tree trunk. And then it happened—two vertibirds, directly overhead. He watched, horrified, as one landed… and none other than the Elder himself stepped out. 

His first glimpse of the famous Elder Arthur Maxson damn near blew his mind. How the fuck was this any kind of Elder? The name seemed ironic—this kid couldn’t be any older than 22, despite the heavy beard and the long scar down his face. He’d clearly seen a lot of fighting in his short life, but did that really qualify him to lead an organization with this much firepower? Why would people follow a kid like this, anyway? If some young upstart came into Goodneighbor and started giving orders, Hancock knew he’d tear the guy a new asshole and send him on his way. Maybe not stab him, he could see Erica’s influence there, but the guy would definitely have second thoughts after he was through. But from what Hancock could tell, the Brotherhood absolutely worshipped this guy. It was baffling. 

He stayed put in the brush, sure that his presence wasn’t going to help matters at all, watching as Preston stepped out of the shadow of the tank and approached, somewhat cautiously. 

“Elder,” the Minuteman said. “What brings you here? You’re interrupting our… training exercise.” 

Hancock caught the slight hesitation and wondered if Maxson could hear it too. 

“Training exercise?” the Elder said. “This is a rather unusual spot for that, isn’t it?”

“Not really,” replied Preston. “We have three settlements close by. It’s an easy central location.” At this, a few of the other Minutemen poked their heads up and emerged from their hiding places, appearing from the brush, stepping out of the shadows, and peering from the entryway of the bunker. Hancock stood up then, just an anonymous ghoul without his usual clothing, and MacCready waved his cap from his tree. 

The Elder looked around at the well-armed militia that surrounded him, but if he was nervous or even slightly concerned, his face didn’t give him away at all. After wishing anxiously for Erica, Haylen, and Danse to emerge from the bunker, Hancock now said a small prayer that they would stay put for a while longer. Long enough for them to potentially bluff this guy into taking his escorts and getting the hell out of here, at any rate. He watched as Maxson took in this show of force, and he saw the Elder’s lip curl with disgust at the sight of the ghoul standing among them. 

“You call yourself ‘General,’ is that correct?” Maxson said to Preston.

“That is the title of the one who leads the Minutemen, correct,” Preston replied. Hancock couldn’t help but notice that he almost seemed to dodge the question. 

“And you let this kind of… trash… within your ranks?” Maxson said, gesturing at Hancock.

Hancock’s eyes cut over to Preston, hoping he would notice and not give away who he actually was. 

“Anyone is welcome in the Minutemen, Elder,” Preston said, apparently taking the hint. “Ghoul, synth, it doesn’t matter. All we ask is a willingness to fight for our home against those who would destroy it.” 

Maxson frowned. “That kind of sentiment causes organizations to rot from the inside out,” he said. “You’ll be sorry, in time, when someone you thought was a trusted ally turns out to be your worst enemy and betrays you. These… nonhumans. They don’t know the true meaning of loyalty.” 

Hancock raised his hairless brows but said nothing. As much as he disliked Danse and his toxic beliefs, there was never any question that he was anything but loyal to the Brotherhood. It was, in fact, the Brotherhood who had turned on him. Perhaps it was Maxson himself who struggled with the concept of loyalty. 

“Speaking of nonhumans,” Maxson continued. “We have intel that one is in hiding here, in this bunker. Do you happen to know anything about that?” 

“Like I said,” Preston replied. “We are only here for a training exercise.” 

“Then you won’t mind if me and my men search the bunker.” 

“No!” Preston’s answer was almost too abrupt, and Hancock couldn’t help but wince at it. When the Minuteman spoke again, it was with more control. “It’s a live fire exercise, and we have people inside,” he said. Hancock was impressed at how quickly and adeptly Preston, who he’d always thought of as honest to a fault, could lie to the Elder’s face. “I can’t promise that if you go in there, you won’t be shot at. I wouldn’t want to… incite an incident… between the Minutemen and the Brotherhood of Steel.” 

“Well then, General,” Maxson replied with a smirk, “why don’t you go in there and remove them? I’ll wait. If it truly turns out that our intel was bad, we’ll leave you to your training exercises.” 

Preston hesitated, clearly unsure how to proceed. Then he seemed to make up his mind. “Very well, Elder. I’ll do that.” Hancock approved, thinking that in Preston’s shoes he would have made the same decision. Perhaps he’d be able to tell Danse to hide, let the Elders and soldiers do a quick sweep, and then finally these assholes would get back in their fucking vertibirds and head back to their fucking blimp. 

Preston nodded at a few of the closest Minutemen, including the Lieutenant from County Crossing, and they started toward the shade of the bunker’s entry way. Unfortunately, Hancock’s prayers were unanswered, and Erica, Haylen, and Danse stepped out into the sunlight at that exact moment. 

Hancock couldn’t help it, and he cursed loudly. The two women looked horrified at the sight that greeted them, but Danse just looked resigned and defeated. 

“Hello, Elder,” the Paladin said in a low voice, so different from the commanding prick he’d been back at the police station. 

“Danse,” Maxson said with a sneer. “And you!” He turned to Erica and Haylen, his eyes blazing. “How dare you betray the Brotherhood!”

MacCready shifted in the tree as he raised his rifle, aiming it almost instinctively at the man threatening his Haylen. Hancock made a cutting off gesture with his hand. He understood MacCready’s anger—hell, he was feeling it himself! But they couldn’t just shoot the Elder of the Brotherhood and leave unscathed. The other vertibird still hovered above, and both ‘birds were heavily armed. All it would take was a spray of bullets from the miniguns on board and the whole lot of them would be turned into smoldering piles of meat. MacCready lowered the rifle, but his face was drawn and pale. 

“It’s not their fault,” Danse said. “It’s me you’re after, not them. They are my soldiers, after all. I failed them. Both in their training and… personally.”

“I’ll deal with you in a moment,” Maxson snarled. “Knight, Scribe! Why are you even here? And why didn’t you destroy this… thing… as you were ordered! I realize that you are a loose cannon, Knight Kelly, still learning our ways… but Scribe Haylen? I expected better from you….”

Haylen spoke up, gripping her laser pistol tightly. “He’s my friend, Elder! And my mentor! How could you ask me to do such a thing? He’s always been loyal to the Brotherhood, and now… you just turn on him? It’s not right!” 

“This is not a man, Haylen!” the Elder said. His voice never raised; he didn’t have to yell to command his officers’ attention. “This is a machine! An automaton! Created by the Institute! The very thing we came here specifically to destroy!”

“No, Elder, he….” 

“Let me finish, Scribe! I will not stand for this gross insubordination.” Haylen’s mouth shut, but her eyes glistened with tears. “No mother gave birth to this thing. It was created in a cold lab. Don’t you understand that? Flesh is flesh, and machine is machine. The two were never meant to intertwine. It’s what makes these robots… these… synths… so unnatural. Abominations.”

Danse raised his head, finally looking like he was ready to fight back. “After everything I’ve done for the Brotherhood, Elder—for you—how can you say that about me?”

“How can _you_ say that, creature?” Maxson retorted. “You’re the physical embodiment of everything we hate. Everything _you_ were supposed to hate!”

Empathy for the man suddenly lit up Hancock’s brain. He suddenly felt a strange sort of kinship with the Brotherhood Paladin. He knew how it felt to suddenly be that thing that everyone despised. And yes, he had chosen that path, but even through all his friendships with ghouls, through all the work he had done to try to protect them, he had never, until the moment he emerged as one, realized just how cruelly the Commonwealth treated them. It had been an eye-opening revelation. He wondered what sorts of difficult conversations the man—and yes, he believed with all his heart that the Paladin truly was a man—had had with himself… as well as what kinds of conclusions he had come to. But the fact that he was actually standing up to the Elder was promising. 

“You’re nothing,” the Elder continued in his angry rant. “You’re simply technology that has gone too far and must now be destroyed. Look around you… look at all of this. The scorched earth, the bones littering the wasteland. Billions dead… and all because science outpaced man’s restraint! ‘A new frontier,’ they called it. ‘Pushing the envelope.’ And they went forward with no regard for any of the consequences! Can’t you see? The same thing is happening again and you are nothing more than a single bomb in the Institute’s arsenal! You were created with the goal of laying waste to what’s left of mankind!”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Erica said, her voice dripping with disgust. “You actually have the gall to compare this man to a nuclear bomb? Have you forgotten who I am and where I came from?”

 _Atta girl_ , Hancock thought, proud of her ferocity and her willingness to fight for her principles, even if he didn’t always agree with them. 

“This machine itself might not be a bomb, Knight,” Maxson continued, “but its goal is the same. The Institute has placed it where it wants the damage done, and then, when you least expect it, it delivers a lethal blow to any target. It’s happening right now, this very minute… threatening to blow the Brotherhood and everything we stand for and have accomplished to pieces! It’s a precision strike, delivered right at the heart of the enemy. I couldn’t have planned it better myself.”

“I didn’t even know!” Danse said, desperation in his voice. “How could I possibly be a threat to the Brotherhood when I had no idea! I’ve only ever obeyed your wishes, followed your orders! I’m no bomb, Elder!”

“I trust him, Elder,” Haylen said, her voice just as desperate. “I’d trust him with my life—have trusted him with my life! If he’d wanted to kill me, any of us, he could have done it any millions of times over!”

“How can you trust the word of a machine that thinks it’s alive?” Maxson said. “It’s had its mind erased by the lunatics in the Railroad, given new memories… false memories. Its very soul has been manufactured! It thinks it’s trying to champion ethics, but those ethics were never its own. How can a machine have ethics? The ideas were simply… inserted into it, to allow it to blend into society.” 

Hancock’s thoughts turned to KL-E-0, back in Goodneighbor. She was an assaultron after all, very much a robot. And she did have ethics. Not ethics he necessarily agreed with, but ethics all the same. And she had never been reprogrammed or tinkered with in any way. Her AI had simply developed them, all on its own. Synths, the gen threes, like Danse, had far more advanced and complicated AI. If KL-E-0 could develop ethics, why on earth would synths not have ethics? They had ideas and emotions and hopes and dreams… Maxson had no idea just how wrong he was. 

“Yes,” Danse said, and everyone’s eyes turned to him, startled. Most of the contingent had lowered their weapons, waiting with held breath to see what would happen between the former Paladin and his Elder. “I was built in a laboratory. Some of my memories aren’t my own. But when my Brothers died at my feet, I grieved them, Arthur. That was real. My pain was real. When I defeated enemies, I felt pride. That was real. My pride in being a Brotherhood Paladin. It was real. When you spoke about saving the Commonwealth… Arthur. I felt hope.”

Hancock studied the man as he spoke. Outside of his power armor, in the flight suit, he looked so much smaller. Vulnerable. 

Human. 

“Why can’t you understand, Arthur?” Danse continued. “I thought I was human. I’ve never had any reason to think otherwise. And from the moment the Brotherhood took me in, back in the Capital Wasteland, I’ve never done anything— _anything!_ —to betray your trust. And I never would have.” 

Maxson shook his head, disgust written across his angry features. “It’s too late for that now. You had your chance to come to me and plead your case. I might even have listened. Just by not doing that and running away, you’ve betrayed me.” He turned to Erica and Haylen. “And the same goes for both of you. Knight Kelly—you may be new, but you know enough of our ideals to know what a futile effort this must have been. And as for you, Scribe Haylen… you have no idea how deeply ashamed of you I am. Your parents would be horrified to see you taking the side of this… machine… over your brothers and sisters.” 

If he had expected his speech to cause Erica or Haylen to step down, he had clearly failed. Erica stood, defiant, and Haylen remained at Danse’s side, her hand on the Paladin’s shoulder. There was a deep sadness in her eyes, and it was clear that the young scribe knew there was no coming back from this, but she clearly intended to stand her ground and protect her mentor—her friend. 

Maxson’s voice remained cold, furious. “The Institute foolishly chose to grant you life… or at least some semblance of it. But the fact remains that you should not exist. I don’t intend to debate this any longer. Kelly. Haylen. My orders still stand. This machine needs to be destroyed. And I order you to take care of it. Now.”

Other than the buzzing of the hovering vertibird, silence descended over the group at the entryway of the bunker. Everyone watched and waited to see what decision Erica and Haylen would make. Hancock felt confident in Erica, less so in Haylen. If she sided with Maxson though, there was no chance that MacCready would stay with her. He glanced up at MacCready, perched in the tree. The young sniper was watching, his face as pale as the bleached wood he clung to, clearly knowing that his own future hung in the balance in this moment. 

The two women glanced at each other, and Erica nodded at Haylen, who stepped forward. 

“Arthur,” Haylen said, “after all the sacrifices I’ve made and everything I’ve done for the Brotherhood, you need to listen to us. You owe us that much.”

Maxson’s eyebrows raised and his mouth curled into a smirk. “Very well, Haylen. I’m listening.”

The scribe swallowed hard before continuing. Erica gave her an encouraging nod. “Human or not, Danse has saved the lives of countless Brotherhood soldiers. I was there. I know. He saved my life _and_ Erica’s. When she was injured, he ran straight in to help her and she wasn’t even a part of the Brotherhood yet. You know this. You’ve commended him for his actions and his bravery, over and over. How many of us wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Danse? Now it’s your turn. Your turn to save _his_ life.”

Hancock thought back to that moment, forever etched in his memory. The two of them, surrounded by dead ferals, Erica seemingly lifeless on the ground, his feelings of helplessness and terror. And then Danse, running in, gathering up Erica and taking her back to the station, where Haylen worked tirelessly to heal her. He remembered his anger and resentment in the moment, but if it hadn’t been for Danse, would Erica still be here today? Whatever his motives had been in the moment, and regardless of how he had treated Hancock at the time (he still bristled at the thought), he had rushed in to help an unknown civilian. Not many would do that in this wasteland. 

Maxson glared at Haylen, his eyes shifting between the scribe and Erica, who was standing next to her with her jaw clearly set, and then to Danse, between the women, looking helpless in a way Hancock couldn’t have possibly imagined on that day in Cambridge so many months ago now. 

“You’re stubborn women,” Maxson finally said. “Both of you. It appears we’ve arrived at an impasse.” He turned to Haylen. “Allowing Danse to live undermines everything the Brotherhood stands for—everything _you_ supposedly stand for, Scribe. Yet you still insist that he remain alive.” 

He paused and looked around at the Minutemen gathered and surrounding the small group. It was clear that he was calculating his chances of survival should he fire upon Danse or either of the women and finding that they were not good. Even though it was unlikely any of them would survive the storm of firepower that was sure to come in response, it wouldn’t matter to Maxson if he himself were dead. Despite this knowledge, he did his best to appear as though he had control of the situation, an interesting quality that Hancock couldn’t help but admire, despite his intense hatred of the man. 

“It appears that I only have one option here,” Maxson said. He turned to Danse. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re dead. You were pursued and slain by the Knight and the Scribe. Your remains were incinerated. From this day forward, you are forbidden to set foot on the Prydwen, to speak with any member of the Brotherhood, to so much as show your face to anyone who might spread the word of your existence. Should you choose to ignore me, it’s over. You will be slain instantly. Do we have an understanding?” 

Danse bowed his head in acknowledgement. When he spoke, his voice was quiet. “We do.” 

“Do not for a minute mistake my mercy for acceptance. The only reason you’re not dead is because of these two. And as for you….”

He turned toward the two women, his eyes grim. They both raised their chins and stared back at him, defiant. 

“The same goes for the two of you. You are dead to me. I never want to see either of you again.” His eyes cut around to the faces of the Minutemen around them, making it clear that without this heavy backup, Danse, Erica, and Haylen would not have left the bunker alive. 

Hancock finally stepped forward. “What about these guys?” he said, gesturing at the two soldiers accompanying Maxson and the guys in the vertibird. “How you gonna keep them quiet?”

Maxson glared at him, his lip curling. “Oh trust me... They’ll keep quiet.” He turned and walked back to the waiting vertibird without another word. As he did, it occurred to Hancock that he had likely just traded Erica’s life for the lives of these unknown Brotherhood soldiers who’d had the misfortune of accompanying Maxson on this trip. He decided he was okay with that and stepped forward to pull her close to him in a tight hug. 

“You did good, Sunshine,” he whispered in her ear. 

“I hope so,” she replied. 

When he finally released her, he stepped back. Danse was standing, rather awkwardly, by the bunker. The Minutemen milled about, smoking cigarettes and talking among themselves. Haylen and MacCready embraced nearby, the young sniper trying to console the now ex-scribe. 

Hancock approached Danse with his hand outstretched. “No hard feelings, Brother. Welcome aboard.” 

Danse looked at him for a moment, the conflict between what he’d always learned and what he was coming to understand all over his face. He hesitated for a moment before accepting the offered hand. 

“Thank you, sir. For everything.” 

“Don’t thank me yet,” Hancock said with a sideways grin. “This crazy train is just leaving the station.”


	30. Chapter 30

The small group slowly made their way back to Goodneighbor, the Minutemen, except for Preston, staying behind at their own settlements. After a quick dinner at County Crossing, nothing like the spread that had been laid out for lunch, Preston elected to return with them, noting that he considered Goodneighbor a main hub for the Minutemen (except for the Castle, he commented yet one more time, causing Erica to roll her eyes). 

Hancock led the way with MacCready and Preston, while Danse plodded behind with Erica and Haylen. All the fight seemed to have gone out of the former Paladin, and he looked diminished in his flight suit, despite his large, heavily muscled frame. 

Hancock understood. He’d lost a home too, after all, even if it was his choice to leave. Starting over was difficult, and the Brotherhood seemed to be all Danse had ever known. _And when you stopped to think about it_ , Hancock mused, _it really_ was _the only thing he’d ever known_. All of his memories prior to that were false ones, supplied by the Railroad to help him blend in with the population in the Capital Wasteland. 

He fell back, not knowing if his presence would be rebuffed or not, to walk next to Danse. _It was remarkable_ , he thought. He’d known a few synths now, and it still never failed to amaze him how completely indistinguishable they were from natural-born humans. In a way, you had to hand it to the Institute. What they’d done was nothing short of a miracle. But how could they look on these humans they’d manufactured, with thoughts and dreams and emotions, and not understand the real pain and suffering they were causing through their subjugation of them? He didn’t think he would ever understand it, and he was grateful that he’d managed to surround himself with so many others who felt the same way he did. 

“Hey, man, how you doing?” he asked, lighting up a cigarette.

Danse glanced at him, initially with fear and suspicion before his handsome features relaxed. It was like Hancock could actually see the effort Danse was making internally to change his way of thinking, and it gave him home for the man’s future. Despite his former fierce loyalty to the Brotherhood, it seemed that his mind wasn’t completely closed off. Hancock wondered how many more there were in the Brotherhood like him, brainwashed for now, but perhaps open to different views given the right circumstances. He knew the Railroad’s ultimate plan was to eventually blow that fucking blimp out of the sky, and he’d never questioned it previously, agreeing that it was ultimately the right choice for the Commonwealth, but now… he wasn’t so sure. 

“I… I’m not sure how I’m doing, to be perfectly honest with you,” Danse finally answered. “Everything I ever thought I knew—about my home, my past, my present, my future—it all turned out to be wrong. To be a lie. I don’t know what comes next and that’s… a pretty frightening place to be.” 

“I feel ya, Brother,” Hancock said. He noticed the small grimace Danse made at the word “Brother” and immediately felt bad. “Sorry, man. I didn’t mean anything by that. Just a… friendly word I use. I’ll be more careful.” 

Danse sighed. “Don’t change on account of me.” 

“Too late,” Hancock said with a grin. “But hey, I can tell you what your future holds, for the next day at least. You’re gonna come back to Goodneighbor with us, get a drink, get a bath, get a good night’s sleep. In the long run, well… we’ll keep options open. But you’ll have a safe home there. We welcome all types, you know.”

“So I’ve heard,” Danse said with dry humor. “I guess it’s better than the bunker.” The look on his face said quite clearly, however, that he was not entirely sure of that fact. 

“Think you’ll be interested in joining our little band of misfits as we try to take on the Institute?” Hancock asked. “Seems like maybe you got a little more of a bone to pick with ‘em now? A more personal bone?”

“Yeah,” Danse sighed. “I guess so. I… I don’t know yet. Part of me just wants to sleep for the next five years.” 

“Understandable,” Hancock replied. “Let me know if you need anything to help with that.” 

Danse looked offended. “Are you referring to chems? I don’t use that poison.” 

Hancock chuckled. “Course you don’t. But a little Calmex can work wonders when sleep is elusive, so I wouldn’t rule it out entirely.” 

The former Paladin shook his head and didn’t answer. With their conversation apparently over, Hancock moved back to the front line with MacCready and Preston as they continued down the crumbling road.

  
  
  
  


They arrived in Goodneighbor after dark. Danse looked around at his new home—the dark cobblestone of the streets, the lights strung between buildings, people milling about in packs that included both ghouls and smooth-skinned humans—and he heaved an enormous sigh. It was clear that he still wasn’t particularly thrilled about this turn of events, but hopefully in time he’d come to think of these streets and ancient buildings as his home. 

“Let’s put you up in the Rex for now,” Hancock said. “MacCready and Haylen can help you get settled in, and Preston stays there when he’s in town too. We’ll deal with the bigger shit in the morning. Sunshine, when you got to head back?” 

“I’ll stay with you tonight, of course,” she said, drawing a grin out of Hancock, “but I really need to get back first thing in the morning.”

He nodded with a sigh. “I knew I couldn’t keep you here forever,” he said. “Not yet, anyway.” 

“Some day,” she replied. “And probably soon. I hope. I think things are coming to a head. God only knows what they’ll ask me to do next now that they think you’re dead.” 

“Wait,” Danse said. “The Institute thinks you’re dead? How did that happen?”

“Long story, but I’ll fill you in tomorrow. The important thing you need to know is that if you see a crow? Those black birds that yell a lot? Shoot it. It ain’t a bird—it’s an Institute camera. I used to think that was some paranoid Railroad shit, but turns out it’s true.” 

“I’ve seen the room with the monitors where they watch,” Erica said. “It’s frightening. The good news is that we’ve killed so many that most of the monitors just show static now. There are still a couple—by the vault, in Diamond City, and in some of the southern areas—but seem to remain in one place, so we don’t worry about them. And we can’t just start shooting birds in Diamond City without drawing a lot of attention. They haven’t budged though… I think they’re there for a specific reason, but I don’t know what it is yet.” 

“Maybe just because they’re nosy and like to watch the latest bullshit from those assholes in the upper stands,” Hancock said with a smirk.

“Maybe,” she said, her voice quiet. “But I don’t think that’s it. To be honest… I think Piper may be on to something. There’s definitely fishy shit going on there. But that’s not my problem to deal with right now.” 

“Nope, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there, I suppose.” Her words sent a shudder down his spine, though. His brother… he’d had his suspicions before, but… could it be possible? He couldn’t stand thinking of it now; he just wanted to get back up to his room with Erica and kiss and cuddle his wife until they both fell asleep. 

“C’mon Danse,” MacCready said. “Let’s get you squared away at the hotel.” He led the former Paladin toward the hulking building. “You got a first name, man?”

“Uh, yeah,” Danse replied. “It’s Jacob.” 

“Jacob Danse, huh?” the sniper replied. “Sounds better than Paladin anyway. Robert MacCready is my full name though. Call me Bobby and get shot.” 

“Oh, hush Bobby,” Haylen said with a low chuckle, and he wrapped his arm around her waist.

“Only you can get away with that,” he said and kissed her before moving toward the hotel once again.

Erica laughed softly as they walked away. “I never thought to ask his first name.”

Hancock laughed with her. “He’ll be okay. Just needs some time.” He took her hand as they walked back to their rooms at the top of the State House.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “I guess I know a thing or two about starting over.” 

He glanced at her with appreciation. “I was thinking the exact same thing earlier. Something most of us here have in common, I suppose. We’ve all had to start over.” 

“Seems like starting over was the best thing that ever happened to me,” she said, squeezing his hand. “Shame about the rest of the world though.” 

“We’re all just making the best of it, Sunshine,” he replied, returning the squeeze. “Come on, let’s make the best of this time, too, before you gotta go back.” 

She closed and locked the door to their room before laying the hat she was wearing on his desk. 

“I fully intend to,” she said, slowly removing her shirt.


	31. Chapter 31

They tumbled together onto the bed, kicking the quilt to the side, and his hands were all over her, trying to caress every inch of her soft, smooth skin at once. As far as he could tell, she was doing exactly the same, as her hands ran along the scarred ridges of his back, his chest, down over his belly…. 

“I miss you so much when you’re gone,” he said, the raspiness of his voice increased by his emotion and his desire for her. 

“I miss you too. I can’t wait for all of this to be over.” Her hands fumbled briefly with his belt buckle, then his pants were gone, over the side of the bed, joining his shirt and shoes. 

“How much longer you think this will carry on? It’s gotta come to a head soon, right?” His lips lightly traced along her neck, from her ear to her shoulder and then down to her collarbone. 

“It can’t be that much longer,” she replied, her head falling back, bliss written across her face. “Oh God, John… that feels so good…” 

He paused and lifted his head to look her in the face. “It’s a serious question, Sunshine. The Institute’s getting stronger and more dangerous. I know you gotta play their game to a certain extent, but you play much more and they’re gonna be too powerful to stop. I… don’t feel good about them having that doodad from Mass Fusion. I know it was either them or the Brotherhood, but I wish there’d been a way to just… remove it from the board altogether, you know?”

She gazed at him, her eyes filled with worry and her fingers lightly caressing his face. “I do know. And I wish that had been an option too. I… I wish you hadn’t come along on that trip, honestly. I kick myself over that decision. Maybe if someone like Preston or even MacCready had been there, we would have been able to… I don’t know. Overpower Allie maybe? Take the agitator for ourselves? Maybe it could have come to a head then. But whenever I do break with them… I’ll lose contact with Patriot, and it will mean the Railroad is out of the picture. Maybe… maybe that’s for the best. Desdemona will shit, but… there must be another way.”

“Are the Railroad ready to make their move yet?” He ran his fingers gently through her hair. “I ain’t seen that asshole Deacon in a while now, so I’m feeling a little out of the loop.” 

“No. It’s dependent on the synths inside.” She nuzzled at his neck as she spoke. “They have a leader, but… it’s slow-moving, and Shaun keeps demanding more and more of me. I’m afraid of what he’s going to ask next. I… I don’t think he’s on to me, but it’s like he’s testing me. Testing my loyalty.”

He lifted his head up to look at her, his obsidian eyes serious. “Do you have any? Loyalty to Shaun, I mean? Even after everything, he’s still your son, so it would be understandable if there’s still something there.” 

She brushed the back of her fingers lightly against his cheek, and her gray eyes, dark in the lantern light, held an ocean of sadness. “He’s my son, but… no. I can’t have loyalty to anyone so cruel. It doesn’t matter who they are or where they come from. Besides, I have a new family now. You’re my family. See?” She held up her hand, tilted so the ring caught the light, and entwined her fingers with his. “And it’s not just you. Preston’s my family. And Daisy. And Fahr. And Nick. MacCready. Haylen. Sturges. Virgil. Even Danse now. You’re the ones I’m loyal to. I think… I’m almost sure… this next time I go back will be the last time. And then we’ll have a real fight on our hands. But… I feel good about it. All of us together? Hopefully some help from the Railroad, even if we aren’t following their original plan? I think we can do this thing.”

“How will we get in if they block your access?”

“I’m gonna make this next trip count,” she said. “I’ll dig into the files. Like, really dig into them. Try to access the old CIT details. I know there’s another way out. Patriot and Z1-14—he’s the leader of the synth rebels—they’ve been getting the synths out through an old tunnel system. I just have to figure out where it connects… and where the entrance is. The information has to be hidden somewhere.” 

He sighed and curled up next to her, wrapping an arm around her naked waist. “Be careful, Sunshine. They catch you snooping, they’re bound to know what you’re up to.”

“I know. They actually put a computer terminal in the room they gave me, but I’m not stupid enough to use it. I’m positive there’s some kind of tracking device on it. The trick is going to be finding a computer that doesn’t have any tracking on it. One of the higher ups, I think. Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out, I promise.” 

He lightly nipped at her nipple, briefly sucking it into his mouth before releasing it. Her loud gasp in response brought a grin to his ruined lips. “I know you will, Sunshine. If anyone can do it, it’s you.” His fingers reached down, over her belly and between her legs, and found her ready for him, and he decided to shut up and take advantage of the moment. If she was right, and this really was her last trip back, it meant that all hell was about to break loose, and he had no idea when their next moment alone together would be. If he had to let her go, he was going to send her off properly. 

As he rolled on top of her, her strong legs wrapped around him, locking him in place. A shift of his hips, and he entered her. He groaned with the pleasure of it—every time with her was as good as the first time. Her soft cry in response was music to his ruined ears, and he rocked against her, clinging to her, his lips tracing her face, her neck, back down to her breasts, and then up again, unable to get enough of her.

He relished the feeling of her fingers gripping his shoulders, then sliding up, her hands wrapping around his neck. She held him close to her, and he still marveled over how incredible it felt to have this beautiful, strong woman against him, to be inside her, to love her and have her love him back. It was almost more than he could stand, and he couldn’t help but pick up the pace, thrusting into her again and again, feeling her thrusting back, his cries mixing with hers, growing higher in pitch and intensity, until they both moaned, practically in unison, and he felt her clenching around him, her whole body trembling as she cried out his name and he cried out hers. The sounds they made together were like music, but better than any song he’d ever heard on the radio. 

He shivered against her; his release had left him light-headed, and he felt almost immediately drowsy. He rolled off of her and wrapped an arm around her, spooning up against her back, his lips at her neck.

“Love you, Sunshine. More than anything.” His voice was barely audible, his words almost a mumble. 

Her voice was soft, sleepy. “I love you too, John. More than anything.” 

He smiled and slowly drifted off into sleep, her body warm against his, only the barest hint of worry still in the back of his mind. 


	32. Chapter 32

She left again early the next morning. He watched from their bed as she got dressed, returned to his side briefly to give him a kiss, then twirled knobs on the PipBoy until she disappeared. 

He sighed and decided it was probably time for his own wrinkled ass to get up and face the day. Thanks to Daisy (bless her, he needed to give her a raise for all the help she gave him), his usual duds were clean again, and he felt sharp in his repaired and laundered red coat, although he could tell that it was really starting to be more red thread than fabric at this point. He hoped it would serve him at least a little longer. 

Once he’d freshened up (and popped a couple Mentats for good measure), he headed down to the Rail to scrounge up some breakfast. Spotting Fahrenheit, MacCready, and Haylen, he headed over to join them. 

“Any sign of our friend the toaster?” he quipped as he waved Charlie over to the table.

“Mayor…” Haylen gently chided. 

“Okay, okay. Has Danse shown his face around town?” 

“No,” Fahrenheit replied. “He hasn’t come out of his room yet.” 

“Anyone gone to check on him?” Hancock asked as Charlie dropped a bowl of razorgrain porridge in front of him. “This shit again? Really?”

“If you don’t like it, you’re welcome to fix your own fucking breakfast,” the Mr. Handy muttered in his cockney accent as he floated away, leaving Hancock snickering. 

“No,” Haylen said, answering his earlier question. “We figured he probably needed some time alone. I can’t imagine all the thoughts he must be having right now.” 

“Guess I’ll go up after breakfast, then,” Hancock replied. “Won’t do any good if we went through all that trouble to rescue him for him to give up and off himself up in his hotel room.” 

“You really think he’d do that?” MacCready asked. 

“Hell if I know. Haylen? You know him best.” He nodded at the former scribe. 

She hesitated before answering. “I… I don’t think so… I would have absolutely said no before, but now….” She sighed. “You’re right. We should have checked on him. We probably should have had someone stay with him overnight.” 

“Like Sturges,” MacCready offered. 

Hancock looked up, brows furrowed. “Why Sturges? He stays with Preston.” 

“Yeah, I know,” the sniper replied. “But… well. Okay. So when he was digging through all that Institute data Erica brought back? He uh. Found pictures of a few familiar faces in there. Including his own.” 

Hancock’s jaw dropped. “You’re saying he’s a—”

“Yup. Our favorite mechanic is a machine himself. Go figure, right?” MacCready lit a cigarette. 

“And he told you that?” Hancock was frozen, his spoon held just before his open mouth. 

“Yeah, we were all shooting the shit not so long ago. He said he didn’t mind actually. Thought maybe that was why he had such an affinity for other machines.” MacCready chuckled. 

“Huh. Anyone else I should know about?” Hancock asked. 

“Magnolia,” Fahrenheit said in a quiet voice. He turned to his daughter, eyes wide.

“You’re shitting me.” 

“Nope. He showed me on a monitor. I’d recognize her anywhere, even with short hair and an Institute synth uniform.” 

Hancock sighed. “How you feeling about that, Fahr?”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t feel like anything’s changed, honestly. She’s still the same person she’s been since I met her, and I never suspected in the least, so why should it matter now? She’s one of the ones the Railroad helped escape and then memory wiped. She had no idea herself. Finding out she was a synth didn’t even faze her in the slightest.” She sipped her coffee. “Besides, everything we’ve been doing for the last several months, getting ready to take the fight to the Institute… isn’t it all about the fact that synths are basically just people and deserve the same rights? Deserve to not be kept as slaves? If we let finding out that people we know are synths bother us, wouldn’t that make us a bit hypocritical?” 

He gazed at his smart daughter with a half smile on her face. “I guess it would, at that. I was just surprised is all. I still think Sturges is a damn good guy, and I’d be proud to call Magnolia my daughter-in-law. If that’s what you wanted, of course,” he added as Fahrenheit’s face flushed. 

“It’s understandable that they would take the information better than Danse would,” Haylen said. “After all, they haven’t spent the past fifteen years as part of an organization that tells them every day how synths are a symbol of everything wrong with the world.”

Hancock’s spoon scraped the bottom of his bowl as he finished the porridge. “It probably sounds crazy, but I relate to the guy a bit myself in that regard. I grew up in Diamond City, and even before the ghouls were treated with outright hostility, they were viewed as different. We were taught to avoid them, for our own safety of course.” He rolled his eyes, although it would be impossible for anyone looking to tell. “We were told that ghouls were dangerous, or at least had the potential to become dangerous at any moment. Now I am one. I still see that same fear and hostility in people’s eyes when I leave Goodneighbor, especially when I ain’t in my coat and hat and I’m just another ghoul. There was a point when I had to learn for myself that ghouls weren’t what people claimed them to be, that they were just people.” He sighed. “I don’t know if Danse’ll listen to me. It’s bad enough that he had to learn that everything he believed about synths was false. Not sure if it’s asking too much for him to see that it’s the same with ghouls.” He stretched, popping his back, and got up, leaving his dish to the side for Charlie to pick up. “I’ll go check on him. Probably about time the two of us had a talk anyway. I ain’t sure when Sunshine will be back, and we need to be prepared for anything at this point.” 

“Hang on, I’m coming with you,” Fahrenheit said, and quickly drank down the rest of her coffee before standing. 

“Alright then,” he said, unsure why Fahr felt the need to tag along. They headed up the stairs but when they got to the street, she pulled him into an alley, turning her head in every direction to make sure nobody was around them. 

“Sorry, didn’t want to bring this up in front of the others,” she said. “You need to know though… people are talking. They aren’t happy that so many new people have come to Goodneighbor recently.” 

“What are you talking about?” His brows furrowed. “We’ve always been a refuge for people who ain’t got anywhere else to go.” 

“Yeah, but look at how many people are staying here now. Preston and Sturges and a bunch of the minutemen. That scientist—people are really skeeved out about that one, Dad. Especially since he started out as a super mutant. Haylen and now Danse, two former members of the Brotherhood of Steel, an organization that despises ghouls and this town in particular. Clair up at the hotel said she’s out of rooms now, that Danse took the last one. Daisy is having trouble keeping regular items in stock that people need. K-L-E0’s sales are up, which is really troublesome, since it means people in town all have more firepower on them. And we had to send a team out to go scavenge old pubs and go hunting to find booze and food for the Rail. That’s why you’ve been served porridge so much lately. It’s hard to find enough ingredients to make anything else and razorgrain at least is plentiful.” 

He lifted his hat, scratched his bald head, and sighed. “How bad is it? People planning to revolt?” 

“Not yet, but tempers are running high and the crowding isn’t helping. We’ve had to stop multiple fights in the past couple of weeks. Some guy got his throat slit yesterday. This can’t continue.” 

“I hear ya, Fahr. Keep me in the loop, alright? I know I ain’t been a real hands-on leader lately….” 

“Ain’t that an understatement,” she said, sardonically. 

“Alright, alright. But I think things are coming to a head soon. Maybe a couple more weeks, maybe a month or two. I’m counting on you to help keep people in line for a while longer, make them remember who’s in charge around here.” 

“I assume you mean me,” she said with a grin.

“You got it,” he replied, chuckling. “Once the Institute is dealt with, we’ll have a party to put all other parties to shame. But while we’re prepping for the fight, I need people working together, not cutting each other in the streets. I’ll make a speech tonight. Try to rally the troops, so to speak. Give ‘em a little civic pride and whatnot. Hopefully that’ll settle folks’ nerves for the time being.” 

“Okay. Thanks for hearing me out. I thought you should know what the situation was.” 

“Of course, Fahr. Anytime. Love you, kiddo.” He gently patted her shoulder, then pulled her in for a hug. 

“Love you too, Dad.” She held him tight. “You really think it’s all gonna be alright?” 

“I can’t make promises, obviously. But yeah. I think things’ll go our way in the end.” _I hope_ , he thought, but didn’t say out loud. 

She let him go and wiped the palm of her hand against her watering eyes. 

“What the hell you crying for?” he asked, genuinely bewildered. 

“Fuck if I know,” she laughed through her tears. “I guess... everything is just so stressful. And this thing with Magnolia… I’m cool about it, of course, but… I’m scared for her, you know? What if people find out? There’s a lot of people out there who would be perfectly happy to murder a synth in her sleep.” 

“With you lying next to her?” he asked, gently squeezing her shoulder. “They’d be fucking insane.” 

“I suppose… but I can’t always be there… and she’s so exposed, up on that stage.” 

He frowned. “Does anyone know other than our little group?” They’d been speaking quietly, but suddenly he realized how foolish they had been to have that particular discussion there in the Third Rail—Magnolia’s workplace.

“No, not as far as I know. But… people have a way of finding things out, you know?” 

“Unfortunately, yeah. I do.” He sighed. “Well, keep keeping your ears to the ground. I trust you. I gotta go deal with this other synth in our midst now. Hey… you wouldn’t happen to know where Sturges is staying, do you?” 

She sniffed and scrubbed at her eyes. It wouldn’t do to show any weakness around here. “He’s up at the Rex too, with Preston. Clair could probably tell you which room.” 

“Gotcha. I think I’ll bring him along for this little chat. Hopefully he’ll be open to it.” 

Fahr nodded. “He’s a good guy. I think he’ll be happy to help you out.” 

“Well, I’ve treated him kinda shitty in the past. Hoping he don’t hold that against me.” He looked rather sheepish. 

She smiled. “Nah, he’s the forgive and forget sorta guy. I think you’ll be fine.” 

He squeezed her shoulder again. “Okay, I’ll come find you after we chat.” 

She nodded and headed back down to the Rail, and he continued toward the hotel, his head a swirling mess of thoughts and concerns.


	33. Chapter 33

“Yeah, it’s been a bit much to wrap my head around, but I dunno…. It kinda makes sense to me. At least, it don’t bother me none. And Preston don’t seem to care, either.” Sturges took the cigarette Hancock offered and lit it up as Preston reached over and patted the mechanic’s hand.

“So you’d be happy to come talk to him then?” Hancock asked. “I can’t imagine what must be going through his brain right now. And I ain’t trying to be pushy, but we really need him on our side. He’s a tough fighter, you know?” 

“Yeah, of course. We’ll get that machinery in his head firing on all cylinders,” Sturges replied with a chuckle. He stood up, and as he did, Preston accompanied him. 

“Do you want me to come too?” the Minuteman asked. 

“Nah, I think we got this,” Hancock replied. “I don’t want to overwhelm him with too many people, you know? I was planning on talking to him myself, but first off, I still ain’t sure if he’ll listen to me, and second, once I found out from Fahr that we had another synth in our midst, I thought it might be good to have him on hand as reassurance.” 

“Alright. If anyone can give the guy a pick-me-up, I know it’s you, babe.” Preston kissed the side of Sturges’s mouth, and the other man grinned and patted him on the shoulder. 

“I’ll do what I can. You know how good I am with machines.” 

Hancock chuckled in response. “Maybe we don’t lead with that. Come on, Clair says he’s on the next floor up.” 

The two men stepped into the hallway and climbed the stairs. Once they reached the room the hotel manager had indicated, Hancock knocked. 

The floorboards on the other side of the door creaked, and a cautious voice spoke in a deep rumble. “Who’s there?” 

“Hey, it’s me, Hancock.” 

“And Sturges,” the mechanic said. “We’ve met, briefly.” 

The door opened a crack and a brown eye shadowed by a heavy brow peeked out. “What do you need?” 

“We just wanna talk, man. See how you’re doing,” Hancock said. 

“I’m… fine.” The door started to close again, but Hancock’s foot blocked it. 

“No, you ain’t fine. You’ve been through all kinds of shit lately. Let us in.” He paused then decided to temper his words a bit, sound less demanding. “Please.” 

The former Paladin sighed and finally opened the door. He walked toward the window and sat down heavily in a nearby chair, staring out at the busy streets below. It occurred to Hancock again how… diminished... the powerfully-built man looked in the Grognak t-shirt and jeans he was wearing, even as the fabric of the shirt seemed stretched to its limit across his broad chest. 

“We gotta get you some better fitting clothes,” Hancock chuckled. “You wear that on the street, and you’ll have a train of drooling women and men following you around.” 

Danse sighed and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not planning on leaving this room, to be perfectly frank. Not now that people know what I am.” 

“Hey man, nobody cares about shit like that, not here,” Sturges said. 

“What would you know about it?” Danse replied, his heavy brows knitted together and his expression dark. 

Sturges’s voice was casual as he replied. “Just found out I was a synth myself a couple days ago. So maybe I  _ do _ know a thing or two about it.”

Danse looked mortified. “I… I’m sorry. I had no idea.” 

“Well, that’s exactly the point, ain’t it?” Sturges said. “There ain’t a damn thing different about me. I’m the exact same guy I was before I found out. Nobody knows just by looking, and I sure as hell don’t feel any different. Ain’t like I can hear gears clicking in my brain, you know? Now come on, other than the obvious challenge of going against all the bullshit that damn organization has fed you, do  _ you _ feel any different? Or do you feel like the exact same guy?”

“I… well, yeah. I mean physically I feel the same, but…” Danse hesitated. “My brain… my mind. It’s just… I don’t know which thoughts are mine and which ones were implanted, you know? My whole life, my memories of my childhood, my parents. Those aren’t real. It… it messes with you.” 

“Yeah, I get that.” Sturges nodded and lit up another cigarette. “I don’t know where my so-called ‘real’ memories pick up and the implanted memories leave off. But in the end, it don’t matter.” His hands gestured with the cigarette, the trailing smoke drawing lines in the rays of light coming through the window. “Those memories? They’re all me now. No matter where they came from. I remember parents too. Going to school. Fighting with my sister. Clearly that shit never happened. Not to me. But I ain’t gonna let that bother me. I got a good thing going now. I’m happy, man. I get to do shit I love every day, tinkering with machines, being with people I love. People who love me. It’s your choice, man. You can choose to get on with your life, or you can choose to stay in this room and argue with yourself about where your memories came from. And life’s too fucking short for that shit. You stay in here, arguing with yourself? It means that asshole Elder won. He may as well have killed you right there in front of that bunker.” 

Danse sighed heavily. “Maybe that would have been for the best.” 

“Don’t you start talking like that,” Hancock said. He held the pack of cigarettes out to Danse. “You want one?” 

“No. I don’t smoke.” 

“Suit yourself.” He lit his own cigarette up. “Everyone here wants the best for you. Ain’t no one in town gonna judge you for your background. That ain’t what Goodneighbor’s about. ‘Of the people, for the people.’ That’s our town motto. It’s straight from the goddamn Gettysburg address, over four hundred years ago.” He got up, began pacing. “I’ve done my reading, studied my history. You know what that speech was about? They were trying to save a country that had fractured. Just like the Commonwealth is fractured now. And for the same fucking reason! One side thought they had the right to hold other people in bondage. Well, I say no. Nobody has the right to hold anyone else as slaves. The Railroad is spot on about that, even if their methods are sometimes… questionable.”

Sturges leaned forward. “Danse, you got every right to live your life. Fuck the Brotherhood, man. I know they’ve been your life, but now’s your chance to start over. Create something new.” 

“I… I hear what you’re saying,” Danse said slowly. “I do. It’s just… I never wanted something new. I only wanted to serve the Brotherhood. To… serve mankind.” 

“But that’s exactly what we’re doing now,” Hancock said. “The biggest problem with the Brotherhood—and a few other groups, I might add—is that they got a real narrow definition of what exactly mankind is. If the Brotherhood had been round back when that Address was written, they would’ve been on the side of the folks who thought some people shouldn’t have been included in ‘mankind’ just because of the color of their skin. We all know that’s bullshit, right? I know that I ain’t any different than either of you. My mind works the same. I feel the same shit. I mean, except where my skin’s gone a little numb.” He chuckled. “But we’re all just people here. That’s how Goodneighbor works. Damn near everyone here has a background they ain’t particularly proud of. Or they been chased outta other areas by narrow-minded bigots. And let me tell you right now. If anyone gives you a ration of shit, either because you’re a synth or because you’re ex-Brotherhood, I will personally take care of them.” His dark eyes gleamed momentarily.

Danse heaved a heavy sigh. “It’s… it’s a lot to take in, to parse through.” 

“Of course it is,” Sturges said. “And nobody’s saying we expect you to just jump up and carry on as if nothing happened. You lost the folks you considered your family. Mourn them. It’s the right thing to do. But maybe take some small steps to move forward too. Tell you what—hang out here for the day if you want. But promise me that you’ll come have a drink with me and Preston later. Just some guys, hanging out.” 

“Mind if I join you?” Hancock said with a grin. 

Sturges snorted and chuckled. “It’s your town, Mayor! I ain’t about to tell you where you can and can’t go. I fully expect MacCready and Haylen to join us as well. We’ll spend some time, just shoot the shit. No heavy topics. Think you can handle that?”

“I… yes.” Danse’s expression changed from hesitant to determined. 

Sturges clapped him on the shoulder with a grin. “There you go! It’ll be great—and I’m looking forward to seeing you break outta that shell of yours. Cut loose a bit. I’m betting you ain’t had that opportunity in a long time!” 

Hancock studied the mechanic, curious about his past and at what point he was replaced. No matter how much he thought he knew about synths, the truth never failed to surprise him. “Okay, Danse. Sturges and I will leave you to your thoughts for the time being. But I fully expect to see you tonight without having to send a contingent of Watch to drag your ass kicking and screaming to the bar. And don’t for a minute doubt that I’ll do that if I need to.” 

The former Paladin smiled, the first real smile Hancock had seen. “You won’t have to do that, Mayor. I’ll be there. I promise.” 

“Good.” Hancock stood up and stuck another cigarette between his wrecked lips. It occurred to him that he smoked more when Sunshine was gone, and he wondered why that was. Nervousness, maybe? Well, he’d worry about it later. He had a speech to write for tonight. While he enjoyed speaking off the cuff, it still helped to at least organize his thoughts, and he wanted to carefully consider the arguments he was going to make. Things were coming to a head, and he couldn’t have the town in complete disarray when the shit hit the fan, as the old saying used to go. 

He tipped his hat to Danse and Sturges and headed out to the street, nodding to Clair. Once back inside his own rooms, he breathed a sigh of relief. He enjoyed being out there, fighting the good fight against the forces of evil or whatever, but it was always good to have these familiar walls of his home around him. 

He pulled a half-filled notebook to him and scribbled for a minute to get the ink in the pen flowing again. As he sat, lost in thought and pondering his options, he suddenly noticed the shadows shift. He jumped to his feet, reaching for his shotgun, then spotted the familiar pair of sunglasses sitting in the overstuffed chair in the corner. 

“Goddammit, asshole. What the fuck are you doing here? Ain’t nobody seen you in a while.” 

Deacon nodded at him, not the least bit fazed by either the shotgun or what was now apparently a term of endearment. “You mean  _ you _ haven’t seen me in a while. I’ve been on sabbatical.” 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? You just been farting around the Commonwealth?” He glared at the man in irritation. What was he doing in his rooms? Had he paid someone off or snuck in? Either way, someone on the Watch was about to get shitcanned. 

“No, I’ve had plenty to do to keep myself busy. But right now I’m here on Dez’s behalf.” He stood up and wandered around, picking through the books on Hancock’s shelf. “No Proust? Shame… I think you’d enjoy his writings….” 

“Why are you here?” Hancock said, setting his shotgun down again. For now. 

“Oh, yeah.” The spy straightened up and leaned against the wall. “So Dez is a bit concerned by how long things are taking. Is Erica still going to work with us? That’s the main question here. She seems to be running in several different directions. We know for sure that she’s not working with the Brotherhood. I caught the performance at the bunker.” 

“You were there?” Hancock said, surprised but not truly shocked. 

“You think I would’ve missed that show?” Deacon chuckled. “That was fantastic! Still need to deal with that floating ship, but pissing them off like that and costing them one of their best soldiers is a start at least. But we haven’t had contact with Patriot for a while now, and I know Erica’s been getting antsy. Ready to blow cover.” 

Christ, was this asshole listening in on their private conversations? “They’ve been pushing her more and more. If you know all that, then you probably know they came pretty goddamn close to killing me just a few days ago.” 

The spy looked somber. “I do know that. I’m glad you’re still with us. Truly. But they’re going to keep pushing her, testing her. She can’t snap if we’re going to win this thing.” 

Hancock glared, irritated. “So you’re fine with them killing off the people she loves as long as she stays on your side? You know what she’s already been through.” 

Deacon held his hands up in a peacemaking gesture. “Whoa, whoa! We’re on the same side, right?” 

“Not if you’re okay with me or Sunshine getting killed to protect your precious organization, we ain’t.” 

He thought it would come to blows (and maybe a knife to a certain spy’s gut), but fortunately MacCready picked that moment to stick his head in the door. “Hey, boss?” His eyes darted between the two men. “Uh, everything okay?” 

“No, kid. It ain’t. What do you need?” His posture relaxed slightly at the interruption though.

“Erica’s on the horn. She sounds really worried. Said you and Preston need to haul ass to Greygarden… like now. She’ll be there in a few hours. It’s uh… she sounded pretty upset and said, ‘This is it. This is the end of the road for them.’ Not sure what that means, though. She had to go.” 

Hancock scrubbed his face against his hand, wishing MacCready had waited to pass this message along until Deacon was gone, but he’d have to deal with the situation as it was. “Alright, I’ll head out. Let Preston know, and I’ll meet him at the gate in five minutes.” The sniper nodded and disappeared. Hancock glared at Deacon. “I take it ain’t gonna be able to shake you off of this?” 

Deacon grinned. “Not on your life. Don’t worry, though. You won’t see me.” 

“Great,” Hancock muttered. He pulled his coat on, grabbed his hat and shotgun, and headed for the door to meet up with Preston.


	34. Chapter 34

Shortly after leaving the city, Preston’s comm receiver crackled to life. “General? General! Preston! You there?”

He cut his eyes across to Hancock and raised the receiver to his mouth. “General Garvey here. What’s the report?”

“Sir, it’s Davis. We’re at Greygarden. It’s Wallace. He put out a call for assistance.” 

“Wallace? The scientist?” Preston raised his eyebrows and Hancock groaned, suspecting he knew what the likely problem was.

“Yes, the one who’s been helping keep the Greygarden water mains online and functioning. He’s being… recruited….” The voice on the comm paused and sighed. “Aw, fuck. No, he’s being kidnapped. At least, they’re trying, sir. He’s holed himself up in one of the nearby houses. They could just go blasting in, but they don’t want to injure him.” 

“Son of a….” Preston whispered, his dark skin flushed with anger. Hancock’s eyes narrowed. Preston replied, his voice tight. “Davis, we got the word that trouble was coming, and we’re heading that way now. Should be there in about another hour or so.”

“Yes sir, General. The place is crawling with Institute, but I have a contingent here. Should we just take them out?”

“No!” The Minuteman cleared his throat and spoke more softly. “No. Don’t do anything yet—don’t engage. Erica will meet us there, and we’ll figure out how to handle this. I don’t want to kill anyone if I don’t have to.”

“Understood, sir. We’ll stand down for the time being. But sir, if they attack us?”

Preston glanced at Hancock again. Hancock nodded, his face grim. There was no way Erica would allow the Institute to just slaughter Minutemen. “If they attack, then you may defend yourselves. But absolutely do not provoke them. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.” The receiver fell silent. 

“Motherfucker….” Hancock muttered. “They’re trying to kidnap our best guys now?”

“Apparently so. Good thing they don’t seem to know about Dr. Virgil.” Preston sighed and lit a cigarette as he walked. 

“Good point.” Hancock popped a Mentat, worrying about what the day was going to entail. 

  
  
  
  
  


As they headed down the hill, a small group of Minutemen appeared. The apparent leader stepped forward. “General! Thank God you’re here!” 

“Give me a report, Davis,” Preston said to the man leading the small group, his voice encouraging. Hancock eyed him appreciatively. For someone who initially didn’t want to take charge and sought to push the responsibility on to someone else, he had stepped up to the task admirably. Sometimes the people who wanted power the least were truly the best leaders. 

“These Institute bast’ds,” Davis said, his Boston accent cutting out the r in the word. “They think they can just waltz in here, kidnap whoever they want, whenever they want? Snatch up our guys? Well, not today! They got another think coming! They gotta go through us first.” 

“Hold up for now,” Preston said. “Erica is on her way, and.…” 

Right at that moment, a blue light flashed nearby. 

“Looks like she’s here,” Hancock said. “Perfect timing.” 

She darted across the dead grass to where the small group was convened. Hancock caught her up in a tight hug, and she squeezed him before letting him go. 

“Okay,” she said. “What’s the situation? I’m apparently supposed to meet up with Dr. Thompson, but there is no way in hell I’m letting them take Wallace. It’s one thing to bring them items, but another entirely to let them snatch people.” 

“Ain’t you concerned about blowing your cover?” Hancock asked, his black eyes filled with worry. He spotted a movement on the hill and gave a subtle nod. Deacon was there, as promised. 

“It was bound to happen eventually. They can’t keep pushing on this. We’ve gone far enough. I almost lost you, love.” She took his hand and squeezed it. 

“How you wanna play this?” Davis asked. “We gotta do something here. We been standing here for hours.” 

“Tell me the situation,” Erica said, her voice firm as she took command. 

“Well,” Davis said, “We thought about trying to lure them out here, but I’m thinking instead we should just storm the place. Fuck ‘em, you know? Plus, if we move fast, they don’t got a chance to use those fancy devices to disappear on us. So, what do you wanna do?”

Preston turned to Erica. When he spoke, his voice was soft. “I’m the General in name, Erica, but this is your show. What do you want to do here? Talk to them? Or go in guns blazing? My men are ready.” 

The group of Minutemen nearby nodded, jaws set. With the Institute threatening one of their own, they were clearly itching for a fight. Everyone had been waiting for months to have a go at the Institute; now was clearly their moment. 

“We’ve confirmed that Wallace is safe, correct?” Erica asked. 

“Yes, ma’am.” Davis replied. “He locked himself in a room in that house right over there and nobody can get through. If they could, they’da snatched him by now.” 

Erica looked around at the group, then Preston, then finally Hancock. There was a clear question in her eyes. He gave her a small nod. If she was ready, then so was she. 

“You’re right, Davis. Fuck ‘em. It’s time.” Her voice was quiet, but her words carried all the weight she’d been carrying on her shoulders since the moment she woke up in the cryopod in a dead vault. 

Preston nodded in agreement. “Let’s do this. For the Commonwealth.” 

“For the Commonwealth,” they all murmured. 

As one, the small group moved down the hill, slowly, not ready to give away their intentions just yet. 

“They’re all in the house,” Davis said. 

“Okay,” Erica replied. “We’ll go in the front. You and your men come in through the back. Wait for us to enter, then go in. Once inside, fire at will on all Gen 1 and 2 synths. I’ll deal with Thompson.” 

“You got it, ma’am,” he answered, and the others nodded their agreement. 

They approached the house quietly, and Erica stepped up to the door. Her eyes met Hancock’s, and she took a deep breath. “One…. two… three!” And she threw the door open. 

Chaos erupted as she, Hancock, and Preston burst through the door, quickly joined by Davis and his men. The synths were pinned on all sides and couldn’t decide where to fire first, giving the small group the immediate upper hand. The hum of Preston’s laser musket joined the roar of Hancock’s shotgun and the crack of Erica’s .44 and the Minutemen’s rifles. Synths began to drop. One managed to get off a shot before falling, and a flash of blue light struck Davis solidly in the chest. He fell, and Erica howled in fury. 

“You fuckers!” she shrieked, her face enraged. 

Unfortunately for Dr. Thompson, he picked that exact moment to come down the stairs, his eyes wide with shock and surprise. 

“Erica! Father said you were coming to help us! What are you—” There was no opportunity to finish his sentence before Erica turned her fury on him. Her revolver cracked, and his shocked expression disappeared in a spray of blood, bone, and brain matter. 

The battle lasted only seconds. Destroyed synths lay in pieces. Davis had been the only casualty on their side. Erica dropped to her knees beside him and wept. 

Hancock knelt next to her and held him close. “I’m sorry, Sunshine.” 

“He had a wife, John! Kids!” Her words were hoarse through her tears. 

“I know. But he put himself out there for a cause he believed in.” He held her shoulders and gently pushed her back so she could look in his face. “This is war, Sunshine. Good people are gonna die.” 

“It just never changes, does it?” Her gray eyes pleaded with him for any other answer, but all he could do was shake his head sadly and pull her back to his chest. 

Preston knocked on the door. “Wallace? It’s safe now. They’re gone.” 

The door clicked from the other side, and Wallace stepped out, a slight man, balding, with a neatly trimmed mustache. He looked around at the mess, and his hands shook as he wiped his forehead. “Jesus,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean for it to come to this.” 

“Desdemona’s gonna be pissed,” came a familiar drawling voice from the doorway. Hancock turned to see Deacon standing there, scratching his bald head. 

“Way I see it, there wasn’t much of a choice,” Hancock replied. 

“I saw it all go down, and I get it. I’ll… try to explain.” He sighed. “But Erica, she’s going to want to talk to you.” 

“It’s gonna have to wait,” Hancock said. 

Deacon nodded, looking weary. “I know. You guys do what you gotta do.” 

At that moment, Erica’s Pipboy chattered to life and Shaun’s voice emerged from it. Crisp. Clear. 

Cold.

If Hancock’s skin could still rise into goosebumps, this would definitely have done it.

“Did you think we would not see what you have done? Did you think I wouldn’t know you’ve betrayed me?”

Erica’s eyes rose to meet Hancock’s, her face pale, her jaw set. She swallowed hard. Hancock took a deep breath. This was it. The wheels were set in motion, and there was no going back. 

The chilly voice continued. “After all I’ve done. The lengths to which I’ve gone to give you a new home. A new life. For us to be a family.” 

“A family!” Hancock scoffed in disbelief! “Can you believe this fucking guy!” 

Erica shushed him, quietly, listening to the voice of her son through the small computer on her wrist, her face expressionless. 

“But you have made your choice. From this point on, you are an enemy of the Institute. Should you cross us, we will kill you.” There was a tinge of regret in the voice, but no question whatsoever.

A tear silently slipped down Erica’s cheek. 

“Go now. And live whatever meaningless life you can.” 

As the light went out in the Pipboy and the voice faded, Hancock reached out and took Erica’s cold, trembling hand, squeezing it. Who was this asshole to talk about meaningless? Hancock had never had so much meaning in his life. 

A sob escaped her, and he pulled her to him, hugging her tightly. “I’m here, Sunshine. We’re all here. It’s going to be okay.” 

“I’m his mother, John. His mother!” She wept against his coat. 

“You ain’t been his mother, and it ain’t your fault. He grew up without a mother. Nothing you did made him like this, and he don’t see you as anything more than one more person he can use. I’m sorry.” 

Preston stepped closer and placed a hand on Erica’s back. “We’re here, Erica. Whatever the Minutemen can do for you, all you have to do is say the word.”

Deacon also approached. “And the Railroad. Even if you aren’t working directly for us, we aren’t going to deny you our resources. We’ve got your back.” 

“And everyone back in Goodneighbor,” Hancock added. “MacCready. Daisy. Fahr. Hell, even Danse now. You ain’t alone.”

She finally looked up, eyes wet, her face somber. “Thank you all. I don’t know what I would do otherwise.” She sighed and looked at Hancock. 

He cupped her face and gently kissed her. “Well, Sunshine?” he asked. “What do we do now?”

She seemed to straighten up, steel herself, and that fire shown in those bright gray eyes once more.

“It’s exactly as you already said, John.” She took his hand and looked around at everyone gathered close to her. “It’s war.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here ends Part 3. 
> 
> Part 4 will begin soon!


End file.
